


OtherWhen, Part III

by flamethrower



Series: Re-Entry [11]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/F, F/M, GFY, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-05-01
Updated: 2007-05-01
Packaged: 2017-10-23 12:43:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 24,875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/250433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flamethrower/pseuds/flamethrower
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All hope must be lost before it can be born anew.</p>
            </blockquote>





	OtherWhen, Part III

**Author's Note:**

> Title graphic by Obilupin.

 

After Anakin left Coruscant with Senator Amidala, I spent the entire day trying not to grit my teeth or spew profanity.  My path seemed composed of one frustration after another.  That dart led to a missing damned planet, a tampered archive, and a pissy Archivist.  I'd taken one look at Master Nu's hardened features and known that telling her that all data could be tampered with was a pointless endeavor.  Inviolate, my ass.

 

Then there was my Padawan's solo mission.  I'd managed to put aside much of my frustration with the Council's heavy-handedness with my Padawan over the years, but there was a new level of disregard of late that I was getting tired of.

 

When I met with the Council late in the day, only five members were in attendance:  Yoda, Mace Windu, Shaak Ti, Agen Kolar, and Depa Billaba.  Yoda noticed the set to my jaw, and I could almost hear him sigh.  "Master Obi-Wan: something to say, have you?"

 

"I have... concerns about the Council's choice of assignment for Anakin, Master Yoda."  I kept my tone even, trying to be as diplomatic as possible.  I was among friends here, not enemies.

 

There was a slight cough, and I turned my attention to Agen Kolar, who gave me a quick, dismissive glance.  "You have no reason to be concerned, Master Kenobi.  The Council knows full well what we are doing when it comes to your Padawan."  Kolar was only sitting interim in Master Koth's seat.  I really hoped Eeth wouldn't retire and make the seating permanent.  Kolar was great on a battlefield, but his stubbornness in a Council setting made me want to throttle him.

 

So much for not gritting my teeth through this.  "Forgive me, Master Kolar, but in this matter I do not feel the Council knows my Padawan as well as the Council likes to think that they do."  Out of the corner of my eye I saw Mace roll his eyes, though he stayed silent. 

 

"Oh?"  Yoda rested his chin on his gimer stick and gazed at me.  "Believe him incapable, do you?"

 

 _Oh, no you don't, Master Yoda.  I'm not falling for that,_ I thought, hiding a smile.  "Of many things I believe him quite capable, Master Yoda, and would be the first to recommend him for his ability.  But I do not believe he is ready for this particular kind of test." 

 

Shaak Ti frowned at me.  "Surely the boy can be trusted to keep watch over Senator Amidala, even if there are old emotional ties to be found there."

 

"I believe that if this assignment had happened as little as six months from now, he would be ready, and we would not be having this conversation," I replied.  "But I have grave reservations about what you have asked him to do today."  Anakin had enough trouble keeping his priorities straight of late.  Given what he was going through lately, dangling a childhood crush in front of him was the last thing my Padawan needed.

 

Kolar shook his head.  "We will keep our own counsel, Master Kenobi," he said. 

 

My temper flared at the other Master's blatant disregard.  "Then why is it whenever the Senate says jump, the Council's response of late is to ask for precise measurements of height?" I said, the sarcasm in my voice so thick it would have taken a lightsaber to slice through it.

 

Kolar narrowed his eyes and opened his mouth to reply, but he was interrupted.  "Enough!" Mace barked out.  "Master Kenobi, this Council hears your reservations and understands your concern," he said, then his voice softened.  "Obi-Wan, even if we were to change our minds, there is little enough that we can do.  We're so short-handed that there is no one else available to ensure Senator Amidala's safety.  She _must_ survive this conflict, and despite their connection, Anakin is her best hope.  I would be happy to reverse your positions, but as a Padawan, Anakin does not yet have the authority to do what you will need to do to track Zam Wessel's employer."

 

Dammit.  I knew he was right, but I didn't have to like it.  "That's already turning into an interesting prospect, Master Windu."  I outlined what I'd discovered, making sure to leave Dex's name out of it.  The Besalisk liked to help, but preferred his anonymity.

 

Depa  looked concerned.  "Do you think this deletion of the archives is an isolated incident, Obi-Wan?"

 

"If I were going to tamper with someone's source of information, I certainly wouldn't stop with one entry," I said flatly. 

 

Mace give me a humorless smile.  "That would be a yes.  Padawan, would you track down Saesee and look into this matter further?"  Depa inclined her head, acknowledging the request and signaling her acceptance.  "Obi-Wan, your Aethersprite has been placed at your disposal.  Find what you can, and watch your back.  May the Force be with you."

 

 

                        ****    ****    ****    ****

 

 

I found Anakin in the southern garden, the one we'd once used so many times for training.  It felt like a lifetime ago.  I couldn't even remember the last time we had been here together.

 

"Hi," he said, not bothering to move.  He was staring at the metal fingers of the mechanical replacement the Healers had given him, flexing the joints.  His Padawan braid was a frayed mess.  "How's your leg, Master?"

 

"Hurts like fuck-all," I said, trying to figure out the best way to sit down next to him without falling in the process.  My thigh bone was still healing around the bit of metal they'd had to jam in place to keep everything even, and jostling it sent white-hot jolts of pain up into my stomach.  Not pleasant.  Terza had glared laserbolts at me for refusing any sort of pain-dampening treatment. 

 

Anakin looked up at my words.  "You must still be on drugs, using language like that around your impressionable Padawan," he said, trying for a light tone.  It didn't match the abject misery in his eyes.

 

"I wish," I said, taking the arm Anakin offered, managing to sit down next to him on the cool grass.  We sat together in silence for a time, with me doing my best to try to gauge his mood.  "They're going to light the pyres soon.  I thought that you might want to be there."

 

He nodded.  "Yes, I want to be there.  I can do that, at least.  I couldn't do anything else."

 

For a moment I regretted not taking Terza up on her offer of a staff to aid my walking while my leg healed.  I would have swatted Anakin with it.  No wonder Master Yoda always kept his gimer stick at hand.  "Anakin, you are not responsible for the lives that were lost on Geonosis."

 

"I'm not so sure about that," he said, still not meeting my eyes.  "I mean, for Force's sake, I almost got us both killed!"

 

"Yes," I said, not unkindly.  "That's true."

 

He started shredding grass with the tips of his new hand.  "Aren't you going to yell at me?"

 

"I think you're beating yourself up enough for both of us," I said, resting my hand on his shoulder.  "Do you really think I need to do more?"

 

"I don't know!" he burst out.  "I disobeyed you _and_ the Council.  I was so ... so damned _stupid!_ "

 

"You know, as much as I hate to point this out, you were listening to Senator Amidala.  She, at least, has a brain in her head, and she was still using it.  Therefore you weren't being completely daft."

 

He barked out a laugh, and I realized how close he was to breaking down completely.  It hurt to watch, but at the same time, it was necessary.  It was better he learned the lesson now, rather than suffer further for it later.  "I guess.  I just...  I couldn't understand at the time why you were holding back.  I saw Dooku standing there, and I just wanted to-- to kill him, to get it over with.  I just wanted him stopped.  I just wanted to stop feeling everyone die around us.  I mean - he tortured you!  I thought... I don't know what I thought," he said, staring at his hands again.

 

I swallowed hard.  I was going to have nightmares about those three nights for a long time.  "I did want to stop him.  I _do_ want to stop Count Dooku.  But we had no idea what we were dealing with, Anakin.  No one had really had contact with him for ten years.  And... well, we've since discovered what he's learned in that time."  It was as if someone had handed him an instruction manual on how to be a Sith Lord.  I'd never seen Force Lightning before.  I never wanted to see it again.

 

"Yeah."  Anakin sighed.  "I'm sorry, Master," he whispered.  "I thought I was ready to be a Jedi.  I think I've proven to just about everyone that I'm not even close.  I promise, I will never, ever let anything like this happen again."

 

I nodded, knowing I could take my Padawan at his word.  "You're still alive, and so am I.  That's a step in the right direction, Anakin," I said, smiling.  I had to put on a brave face for this - for both of us.  We had friends lying in state at the top of the south tower, ready for friends, Masters, and Padawans to light their pyres.  "Come on.  Let's go up there and honor our friends."

 

Anakin helped me to my feet, then looked down at me, his eyes full of grief and trepidation.  "Master... we're at war, aren't we?  All of us, the entire galaxy."

 

I nodded again.  Anakin had said the words I'd been thinking.  Hearing them aloud, it struck me how vast this entire mess was - and how frightening.  "Yes, we are."

 

"What are we going to do?" he asked, sounding more like the little boy he'd once been than the man he was now. 

 

I looked up at my Padawan, who'd already lost one limb and all of his innocence to this insanity.  I had no ideas, save one.  "We survive."

 

 

Brave words, considering what awaited me when we stepped off of the lift.  Garen stood there, with Bant and Siri, all of them crying.  _Oh, gods,_ I thought, with Anakin taking my arm in support when surprise and pain caused me to stumble.  "Who?" I whispered.

 

"Reeft," Siri replied, stepping forward to wrap her arms around me in a tight embrace.  "The pit on Geonosis."

 

Bant joined her, resting her chin on my left shoulder to whisper in my ear.  "Garen has something to ask of you.  Please, please do it for him.  This is tearing him apart."

 

"Anything," I said, as Siri and Bant stepped back.  "Anything, Garen."

 

Garen gulped and nodded.  "I want you to... to light..." his voiced grew so choked I couldn't understand him.  He coughed and tried again, taking the hand that Bant offered.  "His Master died last year.  I know I should, I mean, I lived with him for seven years, but I can't - I can't!" Tears poured steadily from his eyes. 

 

We were surrounded by torches and the perpetual dusk of Coruscant night, and there was no hiding the utter heartbreak in Garen's eyes.  "Don't," I said, reaching for his hand and pulling him forward.  He was so damned tall that it was like embracing a Wookiee, but at that moment he shrank in on himself and we were nothing more than children again, with our dreams unbroken.  "I'll do it, I'll do it," I whispered into his ear, and Garen sobbed into my shoulder for the loss of his partner and lifemate.

 

In ten minutes time I stood with hundreds of others, a torch in my hand, and touched the pyre in several places, all of us moving as one.  Two hundred Jedi had fallen on Geonosis.  There had not been a funeral like this in a thousand years.

 

Flames licked and caught, and I said my own silent farewell to my Dressalian friend while his mate looked on.  I dropped the torch onto the pyre, letting the fire consume it as well.  Then Adi's voice rose above the roar of flame, singing one of the old songs in the tongue of Aurebesh - the spoken form of a language we had abandoned long ago in favor of Basic, cannibalizing its alphabet for modern use.  Pain and loss, death and the Force.  I joined her, hearing others do the same.  Our voices rose into the night, defiant in our loss, finding peace where others meant only destruction.

 

We were at war.

 

 

                        ****    ****    ****    ****

 

 

A lull in the many battles.  Just enough time to download a proverbial ton of news updates and try to make sense of them all.  I dropped the reader in disgust and scratched at the stubble on my face, contemplating a shower.  I even had rank enough to override the sonics and pilfer from the water stores.  Of course, it wouldn't fail - I'd be in the shower, trying to remove a week of filth, and someone would put out an all-points bulletin for my presence. 

 

Before I could make up my mind to try anyway, Depa Billaba entered my tiny briefing room with a knock and a smile.  Despite my genuine pleasure at seeing the Jedi Master, I had to bite back a curse.  I really wanted that shower.

 

"I won't keep you very long, General," she said, as if picking up on my frustration.  "I thought you would like an update on the status of the Archives."

 

For a moment, I actually wasn't sure what Master Billaba was referring to.  Then my brain, occupied by months of warfare, caught up with me.  "I have to admit the subject hasn't crossed my mind in some time," I said. 

 

She sat down in one of the chairs opposite my desk - an empty shipping crate - and smiled again.  "Understandable, of course, as it has been six months.  I am about to take up my own command, on Haruun Kal."

 

Considering that she was one of the primary teaching Masters in the creche, her assignment that far out surprised me.  "We must be getting desperate, if you're going there.  Trying to conscript the Korunnai militia?"

 

"Not desperate, Obi-Wan," she corrected me.  "Just cautious.  With the droid production of the Confederacy on the rise, it is better to be prepared to meet their higher numbers."

 

"Indeed," I murmured, thinking about the rumors that were whirling through my portion of the Fleet.  "Have you heard anything about part of the CIS going rogue?"

 

Depa shook her head, giving me a concerned look.  "Considering what we are already dealing with, that sounds dire.  On top of what I found in the Archives..."  She paused.  "Obi-Wan, this goes no further than the two of us.  Do you understand?"

 

I nodded, though I had reservations about doing so.  I didn't like keeping things from my Padawan.  Still, I had no reason to distrust her.  "Of course."

 

"You were right.  Kamino was not the only target of the saboteur's tampering.  A good portion of the Trade Federation's real estate references are missing." 

 

"Well that's fantastic news," I muttered.  With that information missing, we were going to have to rely on intel and our own memories to find places where our enemies could be hiding supplies, not to mention new construction.

 

"Saesee and I are certain that at least three planets have been erased, along with all reference to them.  The only way we were able to trace this was the same method you used before you brought news of Kamino to Master Yoda," she said.

 

"The gravitational fluctuations," I said, nodding.  I'd gone to Yoda first because I wanted his opinion on the plausibility of such a thing, and he'd turned it into an impromptu lesson for the younglings.  I smiled, remembering the disgruntled look on Liam's face.  _Of course the planet's there,_ his expression seemed to say, with a five year-old's sense of the obvious.  I couldn't wait for the day when Liam would be confounding Anakin in the same way, provided Anakin pulled his head out of his ass soon enough to recognize their potential together.  "Do we know what planets are missing?"

  
            "Unfortunately not.  We are going to put missions together to investigate the first two, as they are in CIS territory, but the third is in the Deep Core.  Since the location of the last is most assuredly within the Republic's boundaries, it is of the lowest priority."

 

I didn't like the sound of that.  "At least until the CIS pulls something out of the proverbial hat and takes Coruscant because we ignored their back door," I pointed out.

 

She raised one elegant eyebrow at me.  "Rest assured, it will not be ignored.  If I have to, I'll check out the coordinates myself upon my return from Haruun Kal."

 

My prescience had all but deserted me after Naboo, but I felt a whisper of danger nonetheless.  "You'll be careful?"

 

The normally unflappable Chalactan woman grinned at me.  "Of course I will.  I should be saying as much to you - you seem to be on the Confederacy's Most Wanted list.  Between Ventress and Durge, I do believe you are running out of lives."

 

I shrugged, grinning back.  "I suppose we shall both have to make do with the circumstances we have been presented with."  My statement hid some of my trepidation.  I did so hope that Ventress and Durge were running out of lives, themselves.  Especially Durge.

 

"I must go.  If anyone asks, I haven't seen you," she said, and then shocked me by winking at me.  "You reek, General.  Go find a shower."

 

 

                        ****    ****    ****    ****

 

 

I'd never seen a space battle this complex.  Keeping up with it should have been a logistical nightmare, yet I was managing to track what was going on, maintain our defense, and fight back.  Maybe later I'd even have time to be impressed. 

 

"Someone tell Sigma squadron to stay in their damned formation," I barked.  The nearest Commander, Cody, the clone who tended to stick closest to my side, relayed the order.  "Then tell the Alderaanian contingent to watch for buzz droids - those damned things are everywhere!"

 

"Shit, too late," Garen said, continuing to swear as he slapped his own comm open.  " _Azarael,_ watch your ass, you've got friends!"

 

Garen turned in his seat to look up at me, and I knew we were both wishing to be in fighters instead of the bridge of the Destroyer-class vessel, _Valiant_.  The hell with coordinating our forces.  Right now I just wanted to shoot something.  "Gold group, Red group: get the hell over to the _Azarael's_ line and clean her off," I ordered, and listened to incoming reports from the fighting wings lead pilots.

 

"There's too many of these things to shoot off— holy— they're _shielded!_ The little bastards have shields!"

 

"I'm blowing them off the hull, but they're still intact—they've added repulsors!  I'd be impressed if they weren't trying to take us apart!"

 

"I've got the engines picked clean— oh man.  No good, no good - they have definitely been breached.  _Azarael,_ you have been breached.  Repeat, I have visual on multiple breaches of your hull."

 

"Captain Antilles, can you clean them out from the inside?"

  
            "I've got crews working on it - oh, for --" the Captain broke off, polluting the airwaves with some of the more inventive Alderaani swearing I'd ever heard.  "They nailed our reactor.  We're losing power.  In less than five minutes we're going to be a sitting duck."

 

Dammit.  I stepped forward and Garen opened the comm again for me, his face pale with anger.  This was the first time the buzz droids had ever gone after a capital ship, and it didn't bode well for our forces.  "Captain, we don't have the resources to defend you.  As much as I hate to say it, you need to get as far from the battle as possible," I said.

 

"I hear you, General Kenobi," Antilles responded.  "But you may want to be ready to pick up some evac pods, because those buzz droids haven't given up on us.  My crew is reporting that the little bastards are still hungry."

 

"Understood."  I looked at Garen, who nodded and stood up. 

 

"I'll make sure the pods don't get picked up by the CIS," he said, then grinned.  "It's about time I got to shoot something.  I'll take Rhys with me.  She's good at this sort of thing."

 

"Blow something up for me too, will you?" I said, glancing up long enough to see the _Azarael_ limp out of view.

 

He saluted me, smirking.  "Aye aye, General."

 

I smiled.  "Fuck you, General Muln.  Get the hell off my bridge."

 

"Yep.  Don't forget to come pick us up."  Garen took off at a run, yelling for Rhys as he ran.  Beside me I heard Cody sigh before he reported our next problem.  "Sector six one two seven has incoming, heavy on the casualties."

 

"Enlarge that sector on the main viewscreen."  One of the ensigns sitting below obliged.  I winced at what I saw.  There was enough new debris in that area to start a junkyard with.  "Tell Commander Secura that she needs to get her remaining wings to run interference for the capital ships to withdraw."

 

"Withdraw, sir?  Are we running?" Cody asked, sounding aggrieved.  Clones they were, but they were still Mandalorian stock.  Mandalorians despised running.

 

"No, we're withdrawing.  There's a tactical difference between the two.  If we stay here much longer, we're going to get pounded.  Our little portion of the fleet wasn't prepared for this mess."  I hated to do it, because it meant we lost access to part of the Pernellian Trade Route.  Dax Kello had put up a hell of a lot more offense into this particular campaign than anyone had expected.  We were approaching the end of our first year of galactic war.  I was hoping the anniversary of its beginning would bring us some good news.

 

I managed to keep the fleet in one piece long enough for everyone else to bug out.  When I was sure we weren't leaving anyone behind, my flagship did the same, collecting survivors from the _Azarael_  as we went.  The CIS ships didn't pursue, and I shook my head.  Some part of my brain that was hard-wired for tactics was offended by the entire mess.  Kello's forces weren't winning because he was smarter.  He was winning because there were so damned many droid ships under his control.

 

We jumped into hyperspace, ready to regroup a few light years away.  Garen led Bail onto the bridge a few moments later, though Bail had the most petulant expression on his face.  "It's good to see you alive," I said, grateful that he and the others from the crippled _Azarael_ hadn't fallen prey to further attacks.

 

For a moment he didn't say anything.  Then:  "They ate my ship.  They _ate_ my ship!"

 

I blinked, not sure what to say.  Garen didn't have any such trouble.  "At least they didn't eat you," he pointed out.

 

Bail stopped pouting long enough to glare at Garen while I tried not to laugh. 

 

 

                        ****    ****    ****    ****

 

 

After two months of battling Dax Kello's command, we had reclaimed two-thirds of the Pernellian Trade Route, though it hadn't been easy.  The further we pushed, the more erratic Kello's actions became.  The CIS had disowned him after he had refused to give in to their orders to abandon the campaign.  He had to have been running low on droids, but there seemed to be as many of the blasted things as ever.

 

Aayla had garnered herself a promotion on my recommendation, and in turn the Council and Republic military had dubbed me a High General.  I liked that title about as much as I'd liked being called a General in the first place, which was not at all.

 

I looked around at those who'd gathered in my pitiful little briefing room on the _Valiant_ : Bail Organa and Captain Antilles, Aayla Secura, Bant Eerin (who'd been commanding several wings a few   systems away before being ordered to join up with our fleet), Garen Muln, and Rhys Datchee, one of the non-clone volunteers who'd become Garen's favorite partner in mayhem.  We were all exhausted, tired of eating field rations, and longing to go home, if only for a day. 

 

I'd had enough.  Playing by all of those nice little rules I'd grown up understanding were part of the Republic's ancient military heritage was doing nothing but costing us lives.

 

Garen glanced at me, and though no words had been spoken, he started to grin.  "He's got that look in his eyes, folks."

 

I glared at him, though Garen wasn't fazed.  "I was just thinking it was time to start cheating."

 

Bail and Antilles glanced at each other.  "I'm game," the Captain said, and Bail nodded his agreement.  Aayla and Bant nodded as well. 

 

"Spill it," Bant said, but I held up my hand. 

 

"Wait a moment.  Someone else is joining us."  I couldn't help the grin that spread across my face.  I'd felt his presence the moment his ship had dropped out of lightspeed.  Trust my Padawan to come directly to where the action was.

 

Anakin Skywalker walked in the door and was pounced by an ecstatic Mon Calamarian Jedi Knight.  "You!  I should have known you were back!  He looked far too damned pleased about something!"

 

Anakin grinned and hugged the shorter Mon Calamarian.  "Well, they were getting tired of me winning all of these fights with just a snub fighter and an attitude problem, so they sent me to be your problem instead," he said, looking at me.

 

I rolled my eyes.  "Of course they did.  Come here, arrogant Padawan," I said, standing and holding out my arms.

 

He laughed, strode forward, and picked me up off of the ground in a bone-crushing embrace.  "It's good to see you too, Master.  I see your sarcasm has not been diminished by our time apart."

 

"By the Force, did you grow again?" I asked, amazed when I realized he was now even taller than before.  Really, if it wasn't for Bant's presence, I'd be the shortest person in the room.

 

He shrugged.  "I dunno," he said, greeting Bail with a much gentler hug than the one he'd given me.  Aayla smirked at my Padawan, pinching his ass when he wasn't looking.

 

"What?" she said, batting her eyelashes innocently at Anakin when he whirled in surprise.  "Ancient Twi'lek greeting, I promise.  You've been getting legendary on us, Commander Skywalker."

 

He had the grace to look embarrassed.  "I'm not the only one.  We've been hearing about you guys smashing Kello's faction to bits from halfway across the galaxy.  Tell me I'm just in time to help you finish the job."

 

"Your timing is beautiful," I said, and Anakin settled himself beside Captain Antilles to listen.  "Look.  We've been fighting droids for months now.  Droids," I said, looking at each of my companions in turn.  "Droids with simple binary brains, under control of several droid control ships that also communicate with each other."

 

"Yeah, and they're pretty when they blow up, too," Garen said.  I elbowed him for silence.

 

"I think I have figured out a way to corrupt those control ships with a virus.  The way they send messages out, they would spread the virus throughout their fleet in no time.  My only concern is that I'm certain this will only work one time before the Trade Federation designs a way around it.  Before we continue, do you think it's worth it to sacrifice this tactic here?"

 

Bant nodded at once.  "This bastard has been blocking one of the Republic's primary trade routes for months.  We're not feeling the pinch sitting right on top of it like the rest of the Republic is."

 

Anakin frowned.  "Yeah.  Getting supplies in certain areas is difficult.  The more remote areas are having a lot of trouble getting the basics in.  I'd hate to lose an advantage, Master, but the blockades have been hurting a lot of people."

 

"Even the Confederacy have damned this man's tactics, given his penchant for blowing up neutral vessels.  It's bad press for them," Bail said, his eyes dark and angry.  "Let's stop him.  Right here, right now."

 

I nodded.  "We need to get someone close enough to at least one droid control ship so that a data packet can be tossed into their communications network.  Because of the way their system works, we don't have a chance in hell of doing it from a distance.  We get a squadron in close, under cover.  Bant, your squad would be ideal for this.  In the meantime, we keep the bulk of  Kello's forces distracted by a three-prong attack.  Garen, your contingent will lead one.  Aayla, you've got the second.  Bail, you and the Alderaanian battle group have the third.  You'll hop in from three different points out of lightspeed as close as we can get to their defenses without crashing into something."

 

"This is all well and good," Bail interrupted, looking concerned.  "But how the hell are we going to get Commander Eerin's squadron that close without notice?  Their scanners will sense the approach of her fighting wing before they'd be near enough to drop the data packet."

 

I drew in a deep breath.  This entire scheme rested on something I'd discovered by accident two weeks ago, and had been toying with ever since.  I picked up a piece of flimplast, holding it out in front of me on the palm of my right hand.  Gathering all of my concentration, I touched it with the Force.

 

"Holy fuck," Garen breathed, watching as the flimplast became an exact replica of the small hold-out blaster he'd taken to carrying.  He touched it, and his fingers didn't sink into the image.  "Holy fucking shit," he yelped as he touched what his senses would perceive as cool metal.

 

Anakin was staring, wide-eyed - as was everyone else.  "That is the neatest damn thing I've ever seen," he said.  "What are you doing?"

 

"It's called Force Illusion," I said, letting the flimplast return to its original form.  "I inadvertently used it on Kello's ground forces a few weeks ago.  Startled the hell out of myself, believe me, but it kept them from finding and destroying an entire deployment of storm troopers."  According to my research, I'd also discovered it to be a legitimate Force ability, one the Council had banned centuries ago.  Mace was going to have a fit when he found out what I was about to do.  "With focus and concentration, I can hide them all.  As long as Bant's wing goes in cold, nothing should detect them until it's time to bug out."

 

"If they go in cold, they're not going to have the propulsion to --" Aayla stopped, looked at me, and then looked at Anakin.  "Ah.  I was wondering why your Master hadn't mentioned your position in this little attack."

 

Anakin shrugged.  "As long as I get to go out there with them, Master," he said.

 

I thought about it.  When it was time for that wing to escape, Anakin would be in an ideal position to aid in their retreat.  "Can you get everyone moved into position without losing focus?"

 

"Yes."  No hesitation.  Just a hard look to his blue eyes that spoke volumes about how much he'd changed in the months we'd been apart.  Sometimes I caught sight of that hardness in my own eyes when I passed a mirror.

 

 

In the time since the war had begun, I'd fine-tuned my ability to focus on the Force in the midst of chaos.  Despite that, keeping the illusion of the asteroid in place over Bant and Anakin's silent wing of fighters was an intense, draining challenge - especially as we were three light years away.  It was Anakin who helped me keep my focus.  His own abilities were almost visible to me as he used the Force to propel the thirteen fighters through space in a tight cluster, getting ever closer to the droid control ship.  Every pilot was in full life support gear , running off of battery power that wouldn't even blip the Confederacy's sensors.  We had gone to a lot of effort to make sure no one bothered with one lonely, drifting chunk of rock.  We didn't dare track the asteroid with our own instruments, certain that it would tip someone off.  Instead, my people were relying on me to give the signal for everyone to launch.

 

_We're in place, Master.  This is the minimum distance we need to get that packet in, but we're going to have to break our cover to do it._

 

_I know.  Wait for my signal - and I mean that, Padawan._

  
            I could sense Anakin's amusement.  _Master, I may be many things, but even I'm not crazy enough to try to take on a full fleet with just twelve fighters behind me.  Now, if we were talking twelve fighters behind me_ and _a capital ship, then maybe you'd have something to worry about._

 

Ah, pilots.  I grinned.  Garen was just as bad, as were most of the Mandalorian clones under my command.  After awhile, I'd grown accustomed to it.  "Commander?"

  
            I could hear Cody step up beside me, but didn't open my eyes.  I couldn't take the chance of losing my focus.  "Tell them to launch, and then tell me when each contingent is two minutes from dropping out of lightspeed."

 

"Yes, sir," he said, a definite happy growl in his speech.  I had the feeling that he was just as frustrated of late as the rest of us.  Even though our ship was jumping in last, it still made the Mandalorian happy to see this done.

 

I took a deep breath, let it out, and got ready to drop the illusion.  It meant letting go of an intense connection to the Force, and I mourned, for I always felt a sense of profound loss when I did so.  For all that I lived and breathed by the whims and currents of the Force, something about this particular ability left me feeling that I was just on the edge of some great precipice of understanding.  No matter what I did, though, I couldn't bridge that gap. 

 

"Two minutes!" Cody yelled, and I smiled.  If we pulled this off, I would be a very happy man.  _Anakin, you and Bant are cleared for launch.  Force be with you, my friends._

 

 _And you,_ my Padawan responded.  I had never been able to hear Bant, but I sensed her acknowledgment.

 

I dropped the illusion, and for the Confederacy, all hell broke loose.  I managed to hear the first few seconds of reports being relayed across the bridge before everything was overtaken by a roaring in my ears.  _Fuck,_ I thought, recognizing the symptom, though I'd never felt it before.  Psychic overextension.  I felt Cody's firm grip on my shoulder before the floor tilted and I fell back.

 

 

When I woke up I had a massive headache and an intense desire to crawl under my bunk and hide from the light that was hitting my eyes.  I felt like someone was shoving daggers into my brain.  "No, you don't want to crawl under the bunk, but you do want to shield," a familiar voice told me.

 

I did what I was told and reinforced my shields.  I hadn't needed to do something like that in ages, but I imagined the psychic overextension was part of that.  "Hi, Bella," I said, cracking my eyes open to look at her.

 

The Chitanook Jedi Healer smiled at me before handing me a soft cloth.  "Hi, Obi.  Put that over your eyes, you'll feel better."

 

The cloth cut out some of the light, easing the intense pounding of my skull at the same time.  "Thank you.  What the hell are you doing here?"

 

"Gee, it's wonderful to see you, too," she said, her hands pushing me back down on the bunk when I tried to sit up.  "No, don't do that.  I want you flat on your back for at least another few hours.  If you tried to stand up right now, you'd just fall down.  That's one of the better cases of psychic shock I've ever seen, by the way."

 

"Thought it was called overextension," I said, finally recognizing the scent and silence of my own room on the _Valiant._   I couldn't have been out that long, then.

 

"Overextension, shock, same difference really.  Same results.  Before you ask:  the battle's over, you missed it.  However, you won, so don't whine about it too much, okay?"

 

I sighed in relief and relaxed into my bunk.  "Thank the Force for that."

 

"Thought you'd like to know.  Garen's off shagging that twiggy little human friend of his, but he did report in first.  The Council, those that could be reached, are in a fine tizzy because you used naughty tactics without consulting them first."

 

I grinned.  "Of course they are.  Casualties?"

 

"Not so bad, all things considered..  Not great, which is why I'm here.  Barriss is working in the infirmary, but I knew you would be waking up soon, so I came to pester you."

 

"I'm so very glad you did.  It's wonderful to see you, Bella," I said, lifting the cloth just enough to see my friend's face.

 

Abella smiled again.  "I missed you, too.  I miss Coruscant.  I miss everyone."  For a moment her eyes filled with tears, but she blinked them away.  "They're pretty sure Dax Kello escaped, but most of his fleet has been destroyed.  Your Padawan has been insufferable because of this.  Knight Secura is not helping that.  Bant is trying to keep them both in line."

 

I knew this tactic.  I'd known Abella too long not to recognize her signs of distress.  For now I could ignore the news of Kello's escape.  This was more important.  "Bella, what's wrong?"

 

She sniffed, sighed, and put her hands in her lap, clasping them together.  "My Master was killed a few days ago.  Well, she was not really my Master anymore, but she was still my Master and I loved her.  But those stupid cluster bombs the Separatists use don't care if you're not fighting, if you're just trying to save people."  She bit her lip and then burst into harsh tears.

 

I stared at her, barely able to comprehend it.  I'd watched a lot of our friends die, but it seemed incomprehensible that this was now a galaxy without Jale Terza in it.  Dead.  Dead on some distant rock, far from home.

 

I felt my own tears begin to fall as I sat up enough to take the sobbing Healer into my arms.  _I'll miss you, Jale.  Hai’thathrae,_ I thought, grief both old and new welling up in my throat.  I pressed my face into Abella's soft fur.  _I hope you find Tanak._

 

 

                        ****    ****    ****    ****   

 

 

Naboo in the fall was beautiful, but never failed to remind me of what I had once lost here.  Still, I wasn't going to turn down the opportunity for time off.  Three months after the Pernellian Campaign, Grievous had stepped out of the Confederacy's shadow.  I touched the hollow of my throat, hissing a bit at the still-healing burn.  The new scar ran from there down to my navel, and if hadn't moved when I did, someone would have been dumping two halves of me on a pyre.  I was losing count of the number of times someone had tried to kill me.  The total had to be excessive and ludicrous by now.

 

I stood at the window of the suite Queen Apailana had given me, watching Anakin and Padmé stroll along the garden paths below.  I shook my head - when on Naboo, the two of them were about as subtle as mynocks in heat.  I didn't understand their reticence about disclosing the true nature of their relationship, but I wasn't going to push things.  Really, they were probably wise to keep it quiet.  Anakin and Padmé were both well-known throughout the Republic, which made them prime targets for the Confederacy.  At least this way their relationship couldn't be used against them.

 

I turned away from the window, gazing at the bed.  Padmé must have dropped hints, because this wasn't one of those fluffy monstrosities I had been subjected to in the past.  It was a proper, firm bed, and I looked forward to sleeping in it.  I couldn't remember the last time I'd slept in something other than my own cloak.  Of course, that only left me wondering what I was going to do with myself for two days.  Free time was apparently something I had forgotten how to enjoy. 

 

There was a knock at my door.  "Enter."

 

Queen Apailana pushed the door open, entering the room with two of her handmaidens trailing behind her.  The newest Queen of Naboo was a pale, dark-haired wraith with a quiet demeanor.  Her silence hid a fierce determination to do whatever was required to make things right.  "Master Jedi," she said, dipping her head.  Her handmaidens bowed with her.

 

"Your Highness," I responded, bowing in turn.  My back creaked, and I hid a wince.  Damn, but I had chosen a poor time to get old. 

 

"I know that you and Padawan Skywalker came here to rest, at our Senator's invitation," she said.  "I thought you would like to know that we are having a funeral march this evening for some of your fallen brethren.  Several Jedi assigned to this sector died in defense of our system, and we wish to pay our respects.  Will you join us?"

 

 

    1. Dusk?"



 

 

She nodded.  "Dusk.  The march will begin in front of the palace.  Thank you for joining us, Master Kenobi."  She glided out again.  I was struck by how frail her youth made her seem.  I shook my head - I knew better.  It was her voice that had ended Jamillia's reign when the latter had begun to speak openly of siding with the Separatists.  In that moment, however, I couldn't remember ever being that young.

 

Well.  I knew of one thing I could do.  If I was going to torture myself with a funeral come evening, I could start the process early and torture myself now.  I grabbed my cloak and pulled it on as I left the suite.

 

 

 

The melting pit was humming with activity when I arrived.  I couldn't hear it, but I could feel the vibrations through the soles of my boots.  Just like before. 

 

Before.

 

The red shields weren't in use today, and I wondered why.  I made my way down the long hall, half expecting the shields to slam into place at any moment.  They never did, and I entered the chamber that had haunted my dreams for over a decade.

 

I could find the place on the floor without searching.  I had marked it in my head, and my steps never deviated as I walked over to it.  I would be able to find it blindfolded.  I knelt down, touching glossy black tile, and wondered if the empty, cold ache to my heart would ever cease.

 

My fingers brushed cool tile again as I prodded it with the Force, and I sighed when I felt nothing.  Just a room.  Nothing more.  Nothing less.  No matter that, once upon a time, part of my life had ended here with the stroke of a lightsaber.  I didn't know I was going to speak until my words echoed through the chamber.  "You know, I'm doing what you've asked.  Any time that you'd like to actually come say hello would be damned fine with me."

 

I listened, heard nothing, and sighed.  "I'm going mad," I muttered.  "I'm talking to empty rooms."

 

 

 

I never expected to be heard.  I never, in my wildest dreams, expected an answer.  I was sitting alone in my room, on the bed, legs crossed and considering meditation.  The Force whispered to me, and I felt a presence.  I held completely still, hardly daring to breathe and sure I had finally lost it.  I would know him anywhere, but I didn't dare look, didn't dare to believe.  Then I heard a physical noise, a step, and could take it no longer.  I looked, and forgot how to think.

 

Qui-Gon stood there, as real as I was but for a faint tinge of blue that haloed his body.  The blue eyes that I remembered and loved so much were full of concern.  Force, he was a beautiful as I remembered.  "Qui-Gon," I said, the words a soft gasp.

 

He was looking at me, confusion and wonder on his face.  "Obi-Wan?" he said, hesitation in his voice.

 

I couldn't help the dry sob that tore from my throat.  It had been so fucking long!  "I know I look rather different.  But you... you look the same."  I felt tears gather in my eyes.  All of the pain, all of the guilt rose up, trying to eat me alive as I faced the one loss I regretted the most.  "Oh, Qui-Gon.  I've made such a bloody mess of things.  Can you ever forgive me?"

 

He smiled, the lines at the corners of his eyes creasing, making his eyes seem even more blue.  "Of course I can," he said, taking another step towards me before glancing around.  "Though the suite looks rather clean to me."

 

I stared, nonplussed, and then laughed.  "I missed that." I drew in a deep breath.  Of all the things to forget, my Master's sense of humor had been something I had lost.  "I missed you."

 

He was close enough to touch now, if I dared to do so.  Then he reached out, touching the long copper hair that framed my face, and I think I stopped breathing again.  "I promise you, Padawan.  I have never left your side."

 

I closed my eyes, shaken to the core to hear his words, knowing that it was so.  "I... I know.  I mean, I thought..."  Greatly daring, I reached up and caught Qui-Gon's hand in both of my own, trembling when my hands touched warmth and smooth skin, not air.  I was holding his hand.  I thought I was going to shake myself apart.  Some Jedi Master I was.  In that moment, I didn't care.  I would have given my Mastery, my Knighthood, everything I had, just for this moment to never end.  "I hoped you would be with me, watching me muddle my way through this.  But I was never sure.  I never felt anything, never sensed..." I sighed.  I'd discovered that with my obligation to my Padawan almost over, my life had become a darker place.  The war wasn't helping.  "I had almost given up, honestly.  I didn't think I could bear it anymore."

 

Qui-Gon sat down next to me, and the bed shifted from his weight.  Even that had me in an ecstatic state.  _Really here, really here,_ my mind wanted to keep gibbering, though I kept a stern rein on my thoughts.  "Talk to me, Obi-Wan.  Tell me what troubles you.  I promise I am here to listen."

 

I smiled, my gaze drifting back towards the still-open window.  "Qui-Gon, what doesn't trouble me?"  I chuckled.  "I've tried so hard to do what I promised you.  I'm trying so damned _hard_ \--" I broke off, not sure how to continue.

 

"It's all right, Obi-Wan.  I know that you're doing your best.  That's all I would ever ask from you."

 

"Am I doing my best, though?  I wonder."  I sighed again.  I supposed Padawans never stopped dumping all of their problems into their Master's laps.  "I'm afraid of him, Qui-Gon.  I'm afraid of my own Padawan."  I laughed, feeling bitter.  "What kind of Master fears his own student?"

 

Qui-Gon considered my question for a moment.  "I suppose that would depend on the student as well as the Master," he replied.  "I have always trusted your insight, Obi-Wan.  Are you right to fear him?"

 

"I don't know."  I gripped the hand that I held tighter, feeling the dread that kept popping up at random moments, driving me insane with its nebulous warning.  "Sometimes I look at him and can hardly believe we've been together so long.  Eleven years."  It was almost baffling to realize that so much time had passed.  "He'll take the Trials soon, and sometimes I'm so proud of him my heart could burst.  He's made it, despite everything we've been through."  I paused.  Somehow I doubted that Anakin would ever see the Jedi Trials in light of the war.  "He's absolutely head over heels in love with Padmé, and they feel so right together.  They've already been married."  I smiled.  "They think I don't know, but it's hard to hide _that_ sort of happiness.  But sometimes..." That hazy feeling of doom was back.  My voice dropped to a whisper.  "Sometimes when he smiles, all I feel is cold.  I feel like Death is gripping my heart."

 

"What does the Council think?" Qui-Gon asked, and I snorted. 

 

"The Council.  I sometimes wonder if they're thinking at all.  'Whatever happens is the will of the Force.'  Right.  I haven't believed that since I was seven years old."  I glanced up at him and saw an expression so familiar it made my heart ache anew - Qui-Gon Jinn, trying to maintain the stern, Masterly visage in the face of impending laughter. 

 

"Obi-Wan..."

 

Whatever he was going to say, I didn't want to hear it.  I didn't want this entire experience to be about my fears and doubts.  There was something I had to know before war and loss broke what was left of my spirit.  "Do you love me, Qui-Gon?"

 

I met those blue eyes, trepidation in my heart.  Then Qui-Gon smiled, reaching with his free hand to gently trace the lines my face had acquired in the years since our last parting.  I felt warmth, the whisper of sensation.  Bliss.  "Of course I do, Obi-Wan.  You have always been the light that guides my heart."

 

I smiled, feeling those words drive back every horror.  Then there was a knock at the door.  "Master?"

 

Anakin.  I cursed his timing, turning back to Qui-Gon, and I think my heart broke again as I realized he was fading away.  _Don't go,_ I wanted to say, but I didn't.  I couldn't.  It wouldn't have changed anything.  "Will you be all right?" he asked me.

 

I nodded.  "Yes.  If you love me..." I drew in a deep breath.  "Then I can face anything."

 

 

 

I started awake to find that night had fallen and that Padmé's hand was on my shoulder.  For a moment I couldn't have been more bewildered if someone had dumped a bucket of ice water over my head.

 

"Are you all right?" she asked, a bemused smile on her face as she sat down on the bed next to me.

 

"I... yes.  I suppose so," I said, sitting up and rubbing my eyes with one hand.  I felt cheated.  What had happened to me had felt utterly real - and to wake to find it all a dream?  Force, but I hated my subconscious at that moment.

 

"Whatever you were dreaming about, it must have been nice.  Anakin tried to wake you earlier, but decided not to because you seemed happy."  Padmé smiled at me.  "He said he didn't see you look that way very often."

 

Anakin's voice had been part of the dream, then, but trying to fit that into things almost skewed my senses completely.  "It's time for the march?"

 

"Not quite."  She paused, giving me one of those searching looks that earned her as many enemies in the Senate as it did allies.  I'd seen senior-ranking Senators fold under that gaze.  "May I ask what you dreamt of, Obi-Wan?"

 

I thought about telling her no, and then told her about it anyway.  Politician or not, I knew I could trust her with anything.  Bail had that same trust from me.  They were my friends, my allies, and, sometimes, my confessionals.  She listened, and there was sympathy in her eyes when I was done, but she didn't voice it.  She knew me well enough to understand that the words weren't necessary.  "You know, it's funny.  After all these years, I find that I miss him still.  Master Jinn frustrated me to no end while we were on Tatooine, the smug bastard," she said, and we exchanged smiles.  "He was all too happy to play along with my little ruse, because he could use it to do exactly what he wanted to do.  I have to admit, I have used that tactic myself in the Senate just to survive some of their blasted games.  I think, were I to experience what you did just now... I think I would be grateful.  I don't think I would care if it was some Force-sent vision or just the prattle of my mind.  We're involved in a conflict that brings me nightmares every night that I will lose all that I love and cherish.  To have a dream like yours?"  She shook her head and took my hand.  "Take comfort where you can."

 

I closed my eyes for a brief moment.  She was right, of course. 

 

Anakin strolled in without knocking, smiling at the two of us.  "What, are you trying to score with another Senator?" he said, though there was a bit of unease in his words.

 

I wanted to smack him in the back of the head.  Really, he should have known better.  "Of course not," I said, my voice pitched to reflect what Siri had once called the Coruscant Snit.  "She's a girl."

 

"What?!" Padmé laughed and punched my arm.  "You're an ass."

 

"Ow!"  I rubbed the offended spot.  "And you hit like a gundark!"

 

She gave me a feral smile.  "My Captains tried their best to make their presence superfluous."

 

"I'll say," Anakin said, grinning.  "There's a reason I do as she says, Master.  Padmé could beat the snot out of me!"

 

"Stop flirting in front of me, you two," I mock-grumbled.  They looked at each other, sharing a look that was full of love and heat.  "See?  You're doing it again!"

 

"Sorry," they said together, smiling and not repentant in the slightest.  I shook my head.  For a moment I was seized by an intense longing, wishing that the three of us could have bonded like this without a damned war hanging over our heads.  They were quickly becoming my family, and in a time when all of those I held close to my heart were being destroyed, that meant more to me than I had words to describe.

 

The first great horns sounded, and I lifted my head, listening.  Three long, mournful blasts, followed by three more.  We all glanced at each other; once, years ago, we had listened for them as we sat together for the first time.  Gungans were signaling the beginning of the memorial.  "It's time," Padmé said, the playfulness fading away.

 

I nodded, standing, while Anakin held out an arm for the Senator to take.  Time to honor our fallen.  Time to honor our friends.

 

 

                        ****    ****    ****    ****

 

 

In six months' time, my dream of Qui-Gon felt like an ancient memory.  Kello's defeat at Polis Massa signaled a change in the wind.  Anakin and I had gone after him when he'd surfaced near Togoria, attacking under-defended stations and planets as he went.  His destruction was a boon that the Republic had needed for some time, and allowed the full Council to convene on Coruscant for the first time in eight months. 

 

The Republic could consider his final defeat a victory all it wanted to, but I wanted nothing to do with it.  Kello had tortured three Jedi to death before he'd finally been stopped.  One of them had been my dearest friend.

 

I looked around as I entered the Council Chamber and counted four empty seats.  I'd known what to expect, of course, but entering this room and not seeing Adi or Depa was just a painful reminder of how much this war was taking from us.  Adi had been one of Grievous' first victims.  Oppo Rancisis had been killed by Sora Bulq, and Even Piell had resigned, saying that he was no longer capable of giving the Council his full attention in light of galactic events.  Even knowing that Depa wasn't dead, just comatose, was not much reassurance.  The chances of the Jedi Master recovering from what had happened to her on Haruun Kal were slim. 

 

Mace Windu gave me a _look_ , one I had grown used to long ago, and for a moment I had to hide a smile.  "Obi-Wan Kenobi, while this Council is appreciative of your prompt response to our summons, the Healers wish me to remind you that it is a good idea to talk to them before leaving their care."

 

"I'm intact and perfectly functional," I said, my expression just as neutral as Mace's.  My eyes wandered over to the empty seats that were in my line of sight.  "The Healers have others to look after, Master Windu." 

 

"You're a stubborn bastard, Master Kenobi," Shaak Ti said, and that time I did smile.  "Which is exactly why you're here."  My smile quickly turned into a frown.  I had a bad feeling about that sort of pronouncement.

 

Mace looked at Yoda, who gave the other Jedi Master a slight shrug.  Mace grimaced and turned back to me.  "I want you to take Depa's seat," he said.

 

My first absurd thought was that he just wanted me to sit down.  Then I realized exactly what he was saying.  "What?!"

 

"The Council has spoken, and agreed: we want you to have Master Billaba's seat on the Council, Obi-Wan," he said, this time hiding behind Council formality.

 

I didn't even need to think about it.  "Absolutely not.  I need to be out there, not sitting in here on my ass."

 

Mace held up his hands, beseeching.  I froze - that was something I had never seen from him before.  "Please, hear me out."

 

After a moment's hesitation, I nodded.

 

"This is not a decision we have reached lightly.  I know you feel that your presence will be more useful elsewhere.  Believe me, many of us feel the same way.  This room sees dust more often than it sees us lately," he said.

 

He nodded at Shaak Ti, who spoke next.  "When our Padawans, Knights, and Masters are reporting in from the battlefront, your name is the one we hear the most often.  The exploits of others are, of course, legendary, but you have achieved something more than that."

 

"An affinity with the other Jedi, you have," Yoda said, gazing at me with pride. 

 

"Not only are your solutions unorthodox, but you also have presented the Republic with the least amount of bloodshed, Negotiator."

 

I glared at Ki Adi Mundi.  I hated that blasted nickname.  He merely smiled back.

 

"You also tend to give credit to others for what you've accomplished, taking no pride or vanity in your successes," Shaak said, and that finally gave me back my voice.

 

"They're not successes if people died!"

 

"...Which is another reason why we want you standing with us," Shaak Ti continued, ignoring my outburst. 

 

Dammit.  One hour out of the Healers' Ward and I already had a headache.  "I will not lie and say that your words aren't true," I said, resisting the urge to rub the bridge of my nose.  "But all of the things you say point to the fact that I should remain out there.  I don't want the job, Mace.  Give it to Stass Allie."

 

"Master Allie is being asked to take Master Gallia's chair," Mace said, and I could hear the quiet mourning in his voice.  Fuck.  I hadn't wanted to step on wounds that were still so fresh.  Depa's Fall had wounded my friend.  Adi Gallia's death had almost broken him.

 

"Coleman Kjac, then.  He's been doing fantastic diplomatic work with the fringe worlds that aren't sure of their affiliation."

 

"Taking Oppo's seat," Shaak said, giving me a pointed stare.  "You're running out of suggestions."

 

"About what is wanted, this is not," Yoda said, a sympathetic expression on his careworn face.  "About what is needed, this is. Needed, you are."

 

They were right.  I was out of suggestions, and I was out of arguments.  "Then I will do it - on two conditions."

 

Mace looked suspicious.  "What are these conditions?"

 

"When this war is over, I resign.  No reservations, no hounding me to continue the position.  If I choose to leave, I do so."  I couldn't see myself wanting to stay.  I'd gone from seeing the position as something to be desired to seeing a Council seat as a living representation of hell.  I had enough nightmares from being trapped in the position of a General, knowing that one wrong move would bring death to countless individuals serving under me.  I was happy to leave that kind of responsibility to others, when I was allowed to.  Gods, but I longed for the days of negotiating mining rights and simple treaties.  I'd be happy with a ton of pomp and circumstance as long as it never involved bloodshed on this scale again.

 

The nine Council members had a moment of silent conversation, the whisper of the Force flowing around me.  "Accepted, provided that you are willing to name your successor as is our tradition."  _If I live long enough,_ I thought.  "What's the second condition?" Mace asked.

 

I mentally dug in my heels.  This time I expected an argument.  "Knight my Padawan."

 

Mace's lips compressed to a thin line as he leaned back in his chair, broadcasting his displeasure at my statement.  "Is this because of what we have asked of you?"

  
            "Of course not!" I shook my head.  "After Praesitlyn and the Kello affair, I was going to bring the matter to your attention, regardless."

 

"I agree with Obi-Wan," Ki Adi said, surprising me.  "Padawan Skywalker has shown tremendous aptitude, both while under my tutelage and beyond.  I think it is high time that he be granted his Knighthood."

 

"Seconded," Kit Fisto said, and I inclined my head at Bant's former Master in gratitude.  He had lost as much as I had with Bant's death.  Perhaps more, if the faint hints of rumor were to be believed.  If he and my childhood friend had been more than just Master and Padawan, she had kept it to herself.  "Anakin has been working without his Master's guidance for most of the year due to the war, and has thrived."

 

Mace looked at me, the neutral air back in his eyes, though I knew he was more concerned than he let on.  "Master Gallia once held deep reservations about Skywalker's maturity.  Do you think she would have changed her mind, were she still here?"

 

"I would like to think so, yes," I replied, wishing I had something better to give him.  I wished she were still here, if only to give both of us an earful.  Damn Grievous, anyway.  Grievous, Durge, Asajj, Dooku... I gritted my teeth and counted to ten, breathing my anger out before it could latch hold.

 

Shaak Ti was looking at Yoda.  "What do you think, Master?"

 

I turned my attention back to Yoda, who had closed his eyes, considering the possibilities.  "A Padawan, a Knight - no difference does this make.  A Jedi he is," Yoda said at last, though he looked more pensive than pleased.

 

 _That's not the most rousing endorsement I have ever heard, Master,_ I thought.  Yoda raised his ears and looked at me, as if hearing the thought.  "A Jedi Knight, Skywalker will be.  What he becomes after, his own choice that is."

 

At once it felt like a great weight, one I hadn't known I'd been carrying, was lifted from my shoulders.  I took a breath, feeling like I hadn't tasted free air in years.  I had fulfilled my Master's last wish.  "Thank you," I said, not sure if I was speaking to the Council, to Anakin, or the Force.  At that moment, I didn't care.

 

"Don't worry about the Council seat, Obi-Wan.  It is not as bad as all that," Shaak was saying.  "You will be just as effective here as you will be in the field, especially considering that you are not to return to active duty for a full month.  Healer's orders."

 

My mouth fell open.  "A month, are you serious?  Do you have any idea what can happen in a month's time?"

 

Ki Adi grinned.  "I wasn't so sure before, but now I do indeed agree with you, Master Yoda.  Think the whole galaxy's fate rests upon your shoulders, don't you, Master Kenobi?"

 

I narrowed my eyes at the Cerean Master.  "No.  Just most of it."

 

Yoda smiled.  "My job, that is.  Find your own niche, you should."

 

If our circumstances hadn't been so dire, I would have laughed. 

 

 

            ****    ****    ****    ****

 

 

_It was then that Anakin nudged him, whispering, and Obi-Wan let him step forward, sensing how much Anakin wanted to share a particular memory._

 

 

"What do you mean, he left?"  Anakin glared at Jezibah Terza's apprentice, waiting not-so-patiently for an explanation.  "The man just left a bacta tank, for Force's sake!"

 

Sai Aleena winced and tugged on her multi-colored Learner's braid.  "I know that, but he's a Master!  One thing I learned early on, is when they want out, out they go!  And my Master wouldn't have let him get away with it if Master Kenobi wasn't mostly all right, anyway.” 

 

Anakin sighed, resisting the urge to smack his forehead with his hand.  That was his Master, all right.  Jale Terza had been dead for over a year, and without her presence, the only way to keep Obi-Wan in the Healers' Ward was to tie him down, drug him, and then sit on him for good measure.  Jale's sister, Jezibah, just didn't have time to devote to one patient, considering the ward was full and every other Force Healer in the Order was out in the Outer Rim, helping injured Jedi and soldiers.  "All right.  You're right.  Did he say where he was going?" 

 

When the girl shrugged, giving him a strained smile, Anakin sighed and turned away.  "Okay.  I'll find him.  Thanks."

 

She might have said something else, but Anakin didn't hear it.  He was already tuning into the training bond, trying to place his Master through the Force.  _Hmm.  There you are._

 

 His Master didn't sound the slightest bit repentant when he responded to Anakin's mental prod.  _I do so very much love bacta.  I'm damn glad that Thyferra decided to start exporting it again.  It's saving a lot of lives._ He paused.  _Not that I knew what the hell it was six months ago.  I think Yoda is the only one of us that'd ever even heard of it._

 

 Anakin blew out a long breath and walked along the main corridor, heading toward his Master even as he spoke to him.  _Master, just because bacta works fast doesn't mean you should be running around already!_   Anakin shook his head, ignoring the wide berth other Jedi were giving him as he strode down the main staircase, robes flying out behind him.  At this rate, he was giving Obi-Wan as many lectures on taking care of himself as Obi-Wan was giving him on patience. 

 

  _I'm not running.  I'm sitting.  After the last straight month we've done of running, I have no desire to move any further than I have to._  

 

Anakin bit off his first response, which was to say that the last thing Obi-Wan had done hadn't involved running at all – he'd been bleeding to death in Anakin's arms.  But that was too fresh, too raw, and reminded him too much of how they had failed to save Bant Eerin. 

 

  _So what_ are _you doing then, Master?_ he asked, finding himself in a part of the Temple he'd never paid much attention to.  There was almost no one else around, and he sensed that the area had been largely abandoned for almost two years - just about the length of time the war had been raging.

 

  _If you don't come in, you're never going to find out,_ was Obi-Wan's sarcastic reply. 

 

Anakin made a face and pressed the panel next to the door, letting it open with a soft rush of air.  _Does anyone ever tell you that you get more sarcastic every year?_

 

 _Just you._   Inside the light was dimmer than the outer corridor, though it was still bright enough to see by.  A scent struck him, reminding him very much of wet earth.

 

He blinked to adjust his vision, stepping around work tables as he made his way to the corner of the large room.  There he found Obi-Wan, dressed in worn, stained clothing, bent over a strange contraption.  "You seem to have abandoned the Healers' care prematurely, Master."

 

"Blah, blah, blah.”  Obi-Wan raised a mud-covered hand and pointed at a stack of stools.

 

Anakin smiled and snagged one, dragging it over and sitting down next to Obi-Wan.  "I'll have to remind them to use space-tape, next time." 

 

Obi-Wan smiled, not looking up from his work.  Anakin watched for a few moments, trying to figure out what in the world he was doing.  The contraption was a motorized table of some sort, with a spinning wheel on top.  On top of that wheel was...  mud.  A big cone of mud that Obi-Wan was paying a great deal of attention to, plying his fingers through it as it spun in place.  "Okay, I give.  What are you doing?"

 

Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow.  "What does it look like I'm doing?"

 

Anakin watched as his Master dribbled water over the spinning clay and tried not to mind as fresh mud splattered his clothes.  This definitely explained the threadbare tunic Obi-Wan was wearing.  "Playing in the mud."

 

Obi-Wan nodded.  "Children have found playing in the mud to be very therapeutic for a long, long time, Padawan.  There is no law that states that adults must abandon such practice."

 

Anakin watched as Obi-Wan applied gentle pressure to the cone, which began to flow into a different shape.  Suddenly he felt like seven shades of idiot.  "Oh!  You're wheel-throwing!"  He grinned at himself.  "I didn't know that you could do that."

 

"Well... to be honest, I'm rather out of practice."  Obi-Wan frowned at the clay and crushed the rising cone back down again.  "It's been a long time."

 

Anakin watched as Obi-Wan guided the clay.  Now it was starting to look like it had potential, rather than spinning muck.  He thought about what Obi-Wan had said about therapy.  "You only do this when you're upset."

 

Obi-Wan looked up finally, his eyes wide with surprise.  "Perceptive as always, my Padawan."

 

Anakin smiled.  "As my Master taught me."

 

Obi-Wan snorted, shaking his head.  "I had little enough to do with _that,_ Anakin.  Here.  Watch."  He pressed down with his thumbs on the top of the tall cone, and Anakin grinned in delight as the piece hollowed itself out.  Then Obi-Wan tucked both hands around the moving clay and lifted somehow, and it gained further height as if by magic.

 

“That's incredible.  It looks so effortless,” Anakin said, looking at his hands.  His left hand had a scar across the palm from trying to catch a blaster bolt with the Force.  It had worked, somewhat, though it'd hurt like blazes.  The other was encased in a glove, hiding the biomechanical replacement that he was constantly tinkering on.  “I have serious doubts about my own ability to do that.”

 

"As is the case with most things, all that is required to learn this skill is time and practice, Anakin.  Like all things that seem simple on the surface, there is much that goes into it.  I have a lump of clay on the wheel, which now seems like it might make a remarkably good vase.  But how did it get to this point?"  He picked up a flat piece of wood and began carving away excess clay, and even as Anakin watched, the vase gained shape and definition through simple movements of the wood and Obi-Wan's hands.  "Even before the clay touched the wheel, it had to be shaped and formed, sifted to remove its impurities and kneaded to get rid of trapped air pockets that could ruin the finished product.  Leave in any of those things, and no matter how nice the piece looks on the outside, it is still flawed.  And once it is fired, it will carry those flaws forever."

 

The hair on the back of Anakin's neck stood up.  He opened his mouth to speak, but Obi-Wan changed the subject.  "Tell me about Raku, Padawan.  Tell me everything that happened after we were separated.”  Obi-Wan swallowed hard, his eyes a flat gray, and Anakin felt grief and guilt anew.  Losing Bant meant that his Master had lost another part of his heart.  Maybe he had, too.  The Mon Calamarian Jedi had always referred to Anakin as her little brother.  Then, eventually, she'd started calling him her not-so-little brother.  _And now she won't call me anything at all,_ he thought, and wondered at the desolation he felt.

 

Anakin sighed and told him, telling the story much as he had told it to the Council.  But where his report to the Council had been formalized, he spoke openly with Obi-Wan.  The attack that had separated them had left Anakin disoriented and woozy, and it had taken him a moment to filter the toxic gas after he got away from Kello's thugs.  He hadn't known that Obi-Wan didn't escape until the training bond went quiet.  Later, Obi-Wan had told him he felt it a matter of politeness to filter out the torture he was promptly subjected to, with just enough of an echo for Anakin to locate him.  Anakin had still been too late, and finding his Master in chains and near death had left him terrified - and enraged. 

 

In the next cell had been Bant and two other Jedi.  All three of them had been tortured to death, and Anakin's rage had grown.  It always seemed as if he was too damned late to save people.  "I keep thinking I should have been able to do something more, Obi-Wan.  Shouldn't I have been able to do something?" he asked, realizing that he was crying as he remembered everything that had gone wrong that day, and what Dax Kello had done to the Mon Calamarian who had always cared for him.

 

The vase was being finalized, reminding him of one of the tall, willowy Kaminoans, when Obi-Wan spoke.  "What was your first impulse?"

 

"To kill them," Anakin said flatly.  "They took my friend from me, and I was pretty sure at the moment I was going to lose you, too.  I just wanted to jump up and take them out.”

 

"Why didn't you?  Dax Kello and his ilk had been giving us grief for a long time."  There was no hint of censure in his Master's tone.  That would probably come later, when Obi-Wan gave him the patented Jedi lecture on things that led to the Dark side. 

 

Anakin smiled lopsidedly.  "Well, I figured they would probably kill you before I managed to get all of them, anyway.  And...  if something happened to me, you really were going to die.”  He paused, trying to put into words what had gone through his mind at the time.  “I didn't think it would be...  right.  It was the first time I really understood what everyone meant by revenge leading to the Dark side."  He suddenly felt nauseous.  That last part was a lie, but he had never been able to speak about Tatooine to his Master, or anyone else.  The only way his own wife even knew what had happened was that she had been there when he'd brought his mother's body home.  "I was angry, and it felt...  powerful.  But it didn't feel good, either."  Anakin realized he was starting to stumble over his words.  "I guess you don't know what I mean."

 

For the first time Obi-Wan's fingers lost their surety.  "You would be surprised, Anakin.”  He corrected the flaw in the vase that his stumble had caused, his brow furrowing.  “I thought I was going to have to bully them into it, really, but the Council was being foolish in one aspect.”

 

“What's that, Master?” Anakin asked, privately thinking that the Council could be foolish in more aspects than one, and quite often.  He had watched his Master knock himself against that collective wall time and time again.

 

Obi-Wan stopped the wheel, picked up a dirty towel and wiped his hands with it before turning his attention fully to Anakin.  “There is one lesson I have despaired of teaching you, my Padawan:  recognizing the difference between what you want to do and what needs to be done.  I'll admit that a selfish part of me is very glad that you decided to save my life, but it was also the necessary thing to do at the time.  Without me able to pass on the message of Kello's next attack to Garen's command, we would not have known of his next target.  Polis Massa maintains their neutrality and remains unguarded.  The Confederacy has always respected the medical center as neutral territory, but Kello didn't give a damn.  By choosing the course of action that you did, you saved countless lives."

 

"And Praesitlyn?"

 

"Praesitlyn is what convinced others to voice their favor of your Knighthood," Obi-Wan said.  "And Saesee and Nejaa are ravenous, wanting you to show them how to microjump."

 

"Ah."  Anakin ran his hands through his unkempt hair, glad that Garen had been able to toast Kello but not sure what to think about the rest of it.  “I thought... I thought I was the one being selfish, Master.  I was sure you would have been after me to stop Kello.”

 

Obi-Wan gave him an understanding smile, but there was a definite predatory element to it that Anakin saw more and more as the war went on, and he really didn't like it.  “But?”

 

Anakin sighed.  “But when I opened myself to the Force, still not sure which path I was going to take, I realized that the path to stopping Kello was the same as saving you.  So I... I did what needed to be done, instead of what I wanted to do.”  He paused.  “I still want to kill him.  I'm glad Garen already did, so I don't have to think about that anymore.”

 

Obi-Wan nodded slowly, and the predatory gleam faded back again.  “The decision as to your next assignment has been made.”

 

Anakin blinked.  "Huh?  They've made a decision already?"  Obi-Wan nodded.  "So what are they going to do, separate us again?”

 

Obi-Wan gave him a smile.  "Separation has something to do with it, yes.  They are going to allow me to Knight you."

 

Anakin opened his mouth, shut it again, and stared at his Master as if he'd sprouted a second head.  When Obi-Wan nodded in confirmation, Anakin gaped, swore, and then quite literally fell off his stool.  "What?!"  He stared up at Obi-Wan as if the older man had lost his mind. 

 

Obi-Wan smiled, the flat gray fading from his eyes, becoming the familiar warm blue tinged with green.  "Congratulations, Anakin."

 

Anakin swallowed, righting the stool and sitting back down on it.  He watched in silence as Obi-Wan used a thin wire to separate the clay vase from the wheel that had helped create it.  “Obi-Wan...  I don't want to sound ungrateful, but..." his voice broke.  "I mean, we failed in our mission in the first place.  I didn't want my Knighthood granted on someone's death.”

 

Obi-Wan looked up; he was still smiling, but there was infinite sadness in his eyes.  "Neither did I."

 

Anakin tried to smile back and failed miserably.  "Why?"

 

Obi-Wan lifted the vase and stood, and Anakin followed him around as his Master put the vase on a shelf to dry.  "Why do you think the Council Knighted me after Naboo?"

 

"I... " Anakin stuttered, once again thrown off by the apparent change of topic.  "I always guessed it had something to do with the Sith.  You and Master Qui-Gon were the first to fight one in a thousand years, and you succeeded."

 

"That depends entirely upon your definition of success," Obi-Wan muttered, frowning.  "Yes, we fought a Sith.  Yes, in the grand scheme of things, that's probably important.  But ultimately, that had nothing to do with my Knighting.  If I had been paying more attention at the time, I would have realized it then.”  He covered the vase with a piece of plastic, arranging the material so it wouldn't settle into the wet clay.  "You have heard the Trials discussed since you came to the Temple, Anakin.  What is their purpose?"

 

"To see if you're ready to become a Jedi," Anakin said.  That was an easy answer to give.

 

"Yes, but what makes us Jedi?"  Obi-Wan sat back down in front of the now-silent wheel, scooping up all of the residual clay that had accumulated and throwing it into a bucket. 

 

Anakin thought about all the ways that he could answer that question.  But sometimes the simplest routes were best.  "Why did the Council Knight you on Naboo, Master?"

 

To his surprise, Obi-Wan answered him.  "The Trials are different for us all, Padawan.  We are all one with the Force, but we are still individuals within the Force."  Obi-Wan looked at him intently.  "On Naboo I bore witness to my own worst fears.  Fear of failure, fear of losing someone important to me.  We are very similar in that regard, my Padawan."

 

Anakin bowed his head, knowing that Obi-Wan was right, and he felt ashamed because he still let his anger overcome him more often than not.  "But... I was angry."

 

"So was I."  Obi-Wan touched Anakin's shoulder, in a silent gesture that bid Anakin to look at him.  "But I did not act on that anger, no matter how much I wanted to.  Neither did you.  That is what makes us Jedi, Anakin.  We are not Jedi because of our lightsabers or our Codes.  We are not even Jedi because we use the Force.  We are Jedi because we bear witness to the worst things imaginable and do not lose sight of the Light."

 

Anakin stared back at his Master, feeling a faint whisper of the old mutiny.  “You make it sound so easy.”

 

Obi-Wan surprised him by laughing.  “No, of course it's not easy.  Sometimes it feels damned-near impossible.  But we keep breathing, planets keep turning, and the Force is still with us.  Things will get better, even if, sometimes, it's hard to see the light through the madness.”

 

“Who are you trying to convince?” Anakin tried for a lighter tone than Obi-Wan's words invoked.  There was a melancholy depth to his Master's words that made him even more concerned for Obi-Wan's safety.  “Me, or you?”

 

“Maybe both of us.”  As if noticing Anakin's concern, Obi-Wan grinned and shook his head.  “Never fear, Anakin.  I'm not going to go swan-diving off of a building anytime soon.  I'm about to sever your braid in front of the Council, and that is quite enough light to let me see a way through the dark.”

 

All at once the importance of this one moment struck Anakin, and he grinned back, elation driving away the shadows from his heart - for now.  “Can we tell them 'I told you so'?  Please, Master?”

 

Obi-Wan laughed.  “What, are you trying to get me into trouble?”

 

“Oh, you don't need _my_ help for that, Master,” Anakin replied, delighted.  “You can find plenty of trouble all by yourself.”

 

“You've got two hours before we meet with the Council to make it formal.  Why don't you go tell Padmé the news?” Obi-Wan suggested, busying himself with cleaning up the mess he'd made to create the vase.

 

Anakin paused, hesitation warring with a burning desire to do exactly as Obi-Wan suggested.  “Why would I want to do that, Master?”

 

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes at him.  “I don't know, Anakin.  Perhaps because you tell her bloody everything already, anyway?” he said, giving Anakin a teasing smile.

 

 Anakin froze as realization struck him.  _He knows,_ he thought.  _He knows... and he hasn't said a word.  And he won't.  Not ever._ In that moment Anakin loved his Master more than he had ever thought possible.  “I will do that, Master.  Thank you...” Anakin surprised his Master by hugging him, something he hadn't done in a long time.  “Thank you for everything.”

 

                        ****    ****    ****    ****

 

 

There were only two of us to watch over Siri's pyre.  Garen was sitting on a rock wall with his chin resting on his hands, his elbows on his knees.  "You know, I'm getting fucking tired of this."

 

I was leaning against the wall next to him, ignoring the encroaching cold of Azure's night.  "Which part?" I asked, staring at the flames. 

 

"All of it."  Garen sighed.  "Seriously, it's like all I have to do is sleep with someone and it's a death sentence.  Reeft, Rhys, Siri..."

 

"Great.  That means I'm next."  Some part of me was appalled at how cold the response seemed, but the rest of me just couldn't cope anymore.  Smart remarks were easier.

 

"You'd better not be.  You told me once that I would never have to stand over your pyre, and I'm holding you to it," Garen said, giving me a quick smile.  I should have known that he would understand.  With Siri Tachi dead, both of us were running out of friends.  Abella was the only crechemate we had left, and she had been missing for months.  At this point, we were almost certain that she was dead.

 

"I didn't know you and Siri had slept together," I said, that cold part of me also remarking that standing watch with Garen had been easier than standing over Ahsoka Tano's pyre with Anakin.  He hadn't been ready for the forced Padawanship, but he had adapted to and come to love his relationship with Ahsoka - and what did we get for that?  Another fucking pyre.  My Knighted Padawan, asking me to light it, because he couldn't bear to say goodbye to his apprentice.  I felt tears run down my face and wiped them away.

 

"Eh, it was sort of a spur of the moment thing.  I always thought she was grabby, but you know, in bed that was a really nice trait," he said, his eyes distant.  "I wish you'd killed him.  I guess I'm just a really lousy Jedi Master."

 

"He'll be executed soon enough," I said, my mind recalling that one moment with perfect clarity.  My lightsaber at Magus's throat, Talesan in a panic, and Anakin trying to figure out whether he was going to stop me or cheer me on.  "I almost did."

 

Garen gripped my shoulder with one hand.  "I guess we're both really lousy Jedi Masters, then.  Wanna go get drunk and make out?  I betcha Siri would appreciate it."

 

I smiled.  "Siri would be trying to take holos."  I looked up at Garen, who was gazing at me expectantly.  "All right.  But you're buying."

 

"Still trying to be the damsel, Obi-Wan?" he said, a hint of the old teasing leer in his smile.

 

"Of course not," I responded, reaching out for his hand as he jumped down from the wall.  "I'm just a really expensive date."  His palm touched mine, and after years of silence, my thrice-bedamned prescience roared back to life.  For a moment I was caught by an unbelievable sight, and then Garen snapped his fingers in front of my eyes, gaining my attention.

 

"Shit, I thought we were beyond these little spells," he said, giving me a concerned look.  "You all right?"

 

I breathed out, breathed in, and thought seriously about panicking.  "Garen..."  I paused, still stunned by the images I'd seen.  "They're going to attack Coruscant."

 

"Fuck," he replied, staring at me, mouth agape.  "You sure?"

 

I nodded.  "Yes.  Soon."

 

Garen ran his hand through his hair, taking a deep breath.  "Well.  Fuck me.  Now I really want that drink."

 

I nodded again.  "Me, too."

 

 

                        ****    ****    ****    ****

 

 

"I swear to you, I didn't ask to be put on the Council--"

 

"But it's what you wanted!"  I just couldn't fathom Anakin's mindset.  All I wanted to do was get away from the damned job.  My former Padawan's ambition had never bothered me so much as it did in that moment.  "Your friendship with Chancellor Palpatine seems to have paid off."

 

Anakin frowned.  "That has nothing to do with this."

 

 _Must not throttle Padawan._   I should have spent more time drilling him in diplomacy, if only for him to have an understanding of how the game was played.  He truly did not recognize what he was in the midst of.  In that, I had done him a grave disservice.  "Anakin, regardless of how it happened, you find yourself in a delicate situation."

 

"You mean divided loyalties," he said, still glowering. 

 

"I warned you there was tension between the Council and the Chancellor.  I was very clear.  Why didn't you listen?"

 

Anakin sounded more petulant than ever.  "The Council is upset I'm the youngest to ever serve."

 

  Gods, I couldn't wait for this war to be over.  I was going to recommend that the Jedi take a year off.  All of us, all at once.  As if that could ever be possible.  "No, it’s not that.  Anakin, I worry when you speak of jealousy and pride.  They're dangerous, dark thoughts."

 

Anakin smiled.  "Master, you of all people should have confidence in my abilities.  I know where my loyalties lie."

 

"I hope so."  I did know where his loyalties lay.  The problem was that they were not specifically with the Jedi, or even to the Republic.  Anakin was loyal to individuals, which was why I was now standing in the midst of a gigantic tug of war between the Jedi Council, the Chancellor, and Anakin Skywalker. 

 

"I sense there's more to this talk than you're saying."

 

I nodded.  I didn't want anything to do with this, but it was either me or Mace, and Mace had already lost his patience with the entire situation.  "The only reason the Council has approved your appointment is because the Chancellor trusts you."  Damn, but that sounded awful.  Then again, it was also true.  Despite everything, there were some on the Council who had never trusted Anakin, even before the war had stressed us all to our breaking points - Anakin included.

 

Anakin's jaw clenched.  "And?"

 

"Anakin, look," I said, the perpetual headache I'd suffered from of late trying to beat its way through my skull.  "I am on your side.  I didn't want to see you put in this situation."

 

"What situation?"

 

I took a deep breath.  This was the part that I loathed, even though I understood the necessity of it.  _Play the game._ "The Council wants you to report on all of the Chancellor's dealings.  They want to know what he's up to."

 

Anakin was outraged.  "They want me to spy on the Chancellor?  That's treason!"

 

I shook my head.  "We are at war, Anakin.  The Jedi Council is sworn to uphold the principles of the Republic, even if the Chancellor does not."

 

"Why didn't the Council give me this assignment when we were in session?" he asked.

 

"This assignment is not to be on record."  That, in and of itself, should have spoken volumes to Anakin.  We recorded bloody well everything.

 

Anakin was shaking his head.  "The Chancellor is not a bad man, Obi-Wan.  He befriended me.  He's watched out for me ever since I arrived here."

 

That he had.  At first I'd enjoyed that friendship, because it had helped to give Anakin a sense of place.  As the years had progressed, though, it became quite clear to me that Palpatine's interest in Anakin had political connotations as well.  But what was I to have done?  One told the Supreme Chancellor of the Republic to bugger off much like one told Master Yoda to go away.  "That is why you must help us, Anakin.  Our allegiance is to the Senate, not to its leader, who has managed to stay in office long after his term has expired." 

 

"Master, the Senate demanded he stay longer," Anakin said.  He was right, but that only added to the Council's concern.  I wished Padmé was here for this conversation.  She might have been able to explain to Anakin why the Senate's actions didn't necessarily mean what he thought it did, especially now.  The Senate's influence over Republic law had been all but obliterated.

 

"Use your feelings, Anakin.  Something is out of place," I cautioned.

 

I could sense nothing from him, for he had become a master at shielding his thoughts, but his turmoil was plainly visible on his face.  "You're asking me to do something against the Jedi Code.  Against the Republic.  Against a mentor, and a friend.  That's what's out of place here.  Why are you asking this of me?"

 

I almost lost my temper at that.  "The Council is asking you."

 

He found a bench and sat down, and I joined him.  "I don't like this," Anakin said.

 

I snorted.  "In case you haven't been paying attention, neither do I."

 

He glanced over at me, surprised.  "I... I'm sorry, Master.  I didn't realize.  This must be difficult for you."

 

"You don't know the half of it.  But Anakin, I _am_ concerned.  The Chancellor has stated that gaining direct control over the Jedi is the quick, easy path to ending the war.  But the easy paths also tend to be the dark paths," I said, wishing I could make him understand.

 

"I know."  He breathed out a long sigh and leaned back, staring up at the ceiling above us.  "I hate this.  I really don't believe he's evil."

 

"Honestly?  I doubt he's guilty of anything more than ambition, and of being a connivingly good politician.  If this proves to be the case, I will be the first person to apologize to you for this, Anakin."  I rested my hand on his shoulder.  "But we must be certain.  The head of the CIS is gone, and yet things feel darker than ever."  I considered that.  We had yet again struck down a Sith Lord, and in the Force, things felt more oppressive than they ever had.  "You know, it occurs to me:  I never, ever want to meet this other Sith."

 

Anakin laughed, reaching up to pat my hand.  "Don't worry, Master.  I'll protect you from the big, scary Sith Lord."

 

"You'd better," I said, grinning.  "Or I'll never let you forget it."

 

 

                        ****    ****    ****    ****

 

 

I'd thought that killing General Grievous would be the most difficult part of my day.  Running a patrol among Utapau's cliffs to look for more Separatist stragglers should have been the easy part.

 

When blaster fire shot my mount out from under me, knocking me from the cliff wall to fall to the deep spring far below, I discovered just how wrong I was.

 

Then the first dying screams struck me through the Force, and the controlled fall I had managed was forgotten.  I dropped like a stone into the water.

 

My breath was with me only long enough for me to scream my shock into the water as a thousand souls perished in one moment.  Another thousand were gone in the next.  The Force was being rent by the horror of thousands of Jedi dying at once.  I clawed at my head, not noticing the water I was drawing into my lungs, not feeling anything but pain as those I loved were cut down.  So many went at once that I couldn't identify them.  I was blind with their pain.  I thought I would go mad with it.

 

Then my lungs seized, trying to draw air where there was none, and I was drowning. 

 

 _Swim, you idiot!_ The shock of those words above the din of the chaos in my head gave me some of my awareness back.  _Swim or you're going to die, and that's just what they want!_

 

Somehow I managed to keep from inhaling any more water, and fumbled at my belt until I found the rebreather stashed in its compartment.  I managed to get it over my face, letting it do its work to get rid of the water I had sealed in with it.  I took a breath of air, managing not to let my lungs reject the water that was still in them.  If I did that, the rebreather might not be able to compensate further, and I would die anyway.  The portable units were only designed to handle so much.

 

I found a cave in the depths, and swam up until I surfaced in total darkness.  I clambered my way onto a rocky shore, collapsing onto my chest with my legs still in the water.  I ripped the rebreather from my face and vomited, losing my last meal.  Then I forced my body to reject the water it had taken on, and coughed until I thought I was going to pass out. 

 

I crawled further up the rocky slope and fell, not caring at the jagged rocks that scratched my face. 

 

Jedi were still dying, the cries of the fallen ringing in my ears.

 

This was impossible.  This could not be happening.

 

It was.  The how didn't even matter - it was happening.  My ears were ringing in the silence of the cave, but I was barely aware of it because of the cacophony I could not escape from in my mind.

 

I curled up on my side, my teeth chattering from the shock of the icy water as well as the shock from the Force, wanting the horror to be over.  I couldn't move.  Through the Force, from impressions I felt from others as they fell, I knew what had happened.  The clones were destroying us.  The allies we had fought with for years were the ones who were taking us down. 

 

I laughed, the sound echoing madly in the cave.  I was too horrified, too confused, too overwhelmed to do anything else.

 

There was no one I could rescue.  Utapau was far away from the main routes, far from our prying eyes, which was why Grievous had chosen it as his bolt-hole.  Cold reality set in—when my mount had been shot from underneath me, the clone troopers I had arrived with had been trying to kill me.  For whatever reason, they missed.

 

I didn't even pretend to hope that it was intentional. 

 

 

I had no idea how much time had passed before I could move again.  I exited the cave by swimming back through the spring and climbing out of the water, avoiding patrols.  It was difficult to keep my own thoughts in order.  I was keeping psychic shock at bay with fierce effort.  At some point I was going to have to succumb, to sleep, and let my mind heal from the damage it had just taken.  I didn't have time right now.  If I didn't get out of here, my means of escape were going to start dwindling.  Already some of the troop transports were leaving the planet.

 

The transports were not a good idea, but General Grievous' ship had been left unguarded.  I was lucky - they thought me dead already.  I climbed aboard, almost falling in the process, but managed not to alert the nearby troops as I struggled to keep my grip with numb hands. 

 

I was just leaving the planet's gravity well when it occurred to me that I had known the voice that spoke to me.  "Thanks, Garen," I said, my voice hoarse.  "You saved my life."  I felt tears, hot against the icy skin of my face, trail down my cheeks.  _Through the Force, things you will see.  Other places.  The future, the past.  Old friends long gone._   Garen and I had sat through Yoda's lecture together, eight years old and holding hands because the ancient Master's words frightened us.  I wasn't sure, but I thought that what I'd heard meant Garen was dead.

 

I almost screamed then, but held onto it, gritting my teeth until the moment passed.  I couldn't afford to lose it now.

 

It was Bail who found me when I hit the emergency channels.  I don't know what god I'd made happy to have earned that man's friendship, but I was grateful.  He'd already rescued Yoda, and I breathed a sigh of relief upon hearing that.  Not all was lost, then.  Not yet.

 

I shifted in a very uncomfortable seat after entering hyperspace, trying to will myself to sleep.  I was just shy of nodding off when I remembered the dreams I had once had.  I sat bolt-upright, listening in my head to the memory of dying screams. 

 

"Oh gods," I whispered, burying my face in my hands.  Now that I was remembering the dreams I'd suffered from as a Padawan, I didn't seem able to shut them off.  What good had this stupid gift been to me, when I hadn't known how to stop what had just happened?  Nothing I could do then.  Nothing I could do now.

 

Sleep was a long time coming.

 

 

 

Bail Organa and Master Yoda greeted me as I exited Grievous' ship, though I suppose it was my ship now.  Something small with hyperspace capability was going to come in handy.  If it hadn't been for the restless, nightmare-laden sleep I managed while stuck in that dinky cockpit, I would have collapsed a long time ago.

 

Bail, I could tell, wanted to embrace me, but held back.  He understood that now was not the time.  "You made it," he settled for saying.

 

Yoda looked grim.  "Master Kenobi, dark times are these.  Good to see you, it is."

 

I managed not to grit my teeth.  "You were attacked by your clones, also?"

 

"With the help of the Wookiees, escape I did," Yoda replied.

 

I didn't want to know, but I had to ask.  "How many other Jedi managed to survive?"

 

Yoda's expression did not change.  "Heard from no one, have we."

 

Fuck-all, I thought dismally. 

 

"I saw thousands of troops attack the Jedi Temple," Bail was saying.  "That's why I went looking for Master Yoda."

 

Bail was brilliant, as always.  I almost wanted to smile.  In short order we decided that despite the risk, we had to return to the Temple.  That damned all-clear beacon needed to be dealt with.  If anyone else had survived - and they had to have, we couldn't have been the only lucky ones - then we needed to do everything we could to ensure their continued existence.

 

We were almost back to Coruscant when the Chancellor's office contacted Bail to demand his presence at a special session.  Mas Amedda and Palpatine may have made it a request, but I knew an order when I heard one.  At least everyone's attention would be on the Senate and the Chancellor, who had waved off immediate requests for information from the reporters about the Temple's destruction and promised that he would have answers at the session.  At least we thought it was the Chancellor, when we watched the report on the HoloNet.  He sounded awful, and was wearing a cloak that veiled all of his features.

 

"Like this, I do not," Yoda muttered.

 

"Fuck-all," I said, not bothering to keep that little thought to myself any longer.

 

Yoda didn't even attempt to swat at me with his gimer stick.

 

 

 

I actually found myself shaking my head at the young guard that awaited Bail's ship.  As if any potential Jedi companions of Senator Organa would have held out their hands for stun-cuffs after our kind had been decimated.  The guard was misdirected, and Bail wished us luck before he proceeded on to the Senate Complex.  Yoda and I made our way through back alleys to the Temple proper.

 

We took out one of the groups of clone soldiers guarding the main Temple entrance.  There were other entrances that might have been unguarded, but we needed to do this hard and fast.  That meant getting to the main computer as soon as possible.  I was hoping to find someone alive, but I knew that if survivors remained from this betrayal, they would have escaped long ago.

 

I stumbled to a halt when we found the first pile of bodies - Padawans that had been staying in the Temple to recover from battle injuries.  Long practice was all that kept me from falling apart.  The clone troopers dressed as Jedi had been infuriating enough, but now the fury was being joined by a thick knot of grief that swelled in my chest. 

 

 

    1. "Killed by a lightsaber, he was."



 

 

 _A lightsaber?_ "...Who?!" I stuttered.  The clones attacking us, I had expected, but this?  "Master, who could have done this?"

 

Yoda looked up at me, and we both had the same thought, though we did not speak it aloud.  The Sith. 

 

I gained access to the main computer terminal with ease - despite our new status as fugitives, no one had bothered to change the security codes.  Being on the Council meant that I had the highest access of all.  For once, that blasted position was going to do something good.  "I always hated being on the Council," I said as I worked.

 

"Hmm.  So did I," Yoda replied.

 

I almost mistyped the next line of code.  "I didn't realize that."

 

Yoda mind-tricked a patrol of clones without a word, sending them off in another direction before they recognized us and contested our presence.  "Good for the Jedi, it was.  Respected I was.  Admired I was."  The Master sounded bitter, and it hurt my heart a little more to hear it.  "Accepted the position, I did, but like it I did not.  Hate politics, I do.  Glad I was, to see your Master turn down a Council seat.  Throttled someone, he would have."

 

I smiled as I filed away that new bit of knowledge.  It was funny; for all of my talk of getting Qui-Gon to obey the Code to get on the Council, he'd probably already told them to get stuffed.  Then my smile faded as I finalized the code.  The new programming took effect, and the beacon changed.  The warning was in place.  If there were Jedi remaining, they would know that the Temple wasn't safe.  Our home was gone.

 

We left after exchanging a few words, but as I passed the next terminal, I stopped.  "Wait.  I have to know who did this."

 

Yoda's ears lowered, and there was dark knowledge in his eyes.  "If into the security recordings you go, only pain you will find."

 

I knew he was right. I didn't need the security recordings to suspect who had done this.  The deeper in the Temple we had gone, the more I had felt his presence.  "I have to know the truth."

 

If there is a bigger fool in the galaxy than the one I see when I look in a mirror, I'd like to meet him and shake his hand.  It took only the work of a moment to backtrack through the logs to find the slaughter.  Anakin, his lightsaber in hand, killing Jedi as they came out of their rooms in alarm and confusion.  No mercy.  No hesitation.  "It can't be..." was all I could seem to say.  I couldn't even breathe as I watched him slice down Liam, the boy we had both befriended, who had looked to Anakin as if he held the secrets of the universe.  Liam, who had trusted Anakin to save him - the boy who I had once known was meant to be Anakin's Padawan, more so than our lost Ahsoka ever was.

 

I couldn't even scream, because it felt like there was no air in my lungs.  Then my vision was filled with the sight of Anakin bowing low to the man he called Lord Sidious.  Lord Sidious, whose voice I would know until the day I died. 

 

Chancellor Palpatine.

 

"I can't watch anymore."  There were tears in my eyes and I swiped them away impatiently before I cut the feed.  I was in shock and didn't care.  The galaxy had turned upside down, that was all there was to it.  This could not be.  That could not have been the very same man I'd said farewell to on the landing platform not three days ago, kneeling before a damned Sith.  And the Chancellor is the Sith Lord we'd been searching the galaxy for? 

 

I felt sick.

 

Yoda was quiet, and I knew he was plotting.  I'm glad one of us was capable of it.  "Destroy the Sith, we must," he said at last.

 

I was in full agreement with him.  "Send me to kill the Chancellor.  I will not kill Anakin."  That I knew I could not do.  Even after what I had just seen, the thought was enough to make the remains of my sanity threaten to crumble.

 

Yoda took a deep breath.  "To fight Lord Sidious, strong enough, you are not."

 

Maybe not, but I was damned willing to have a go at it.  I would rather be killed by Palpatine than raise my lightsaber to my own Padawan.  "He is like my brother.  I cannot do this."

 

Yoda shook his head impatiently.  "Twisted by the dark side, young Skywalker has become.  The boy you trained, gone he is.  Consumed by Darth Vader."

 

 _How could it have come to this?_ I thought, not realizing I spoke aloud until Yoda replied.

 

"To question, no time there is."  He touched the lightsaber on his belt with a clawed hand. 

 

I shook my head.  "I don't know where Palpatine has sent him.  I don't know where to look."  Maybe that lack of information could save him.  And me.

 

Yoda wasn't fooled.  "Use your feelings, Obi-Wan, and find him you will.  Visit the Chancellor, my task is.  May the Force be with you."

 

"May the Force be with you, Master Yoda," I replied, miserable.  _Don't get killed._

 

 _Killed I will not be,_ Yoda retorted.  _Move your ass, you will._

 

I almost smiled, but the expression didn't survive past my next realization.  I knew exactly how to find Anakin.  Before, that, though... 

 

I headed back into the Temple proper.  There was one thing that I wasn't going to leave here without.  I just hoped I wouldn't get myself killed retrieving it.

 

 

 

I felt like I had just abused one of my best friends.  I _had_ just abused one of my best friends.  I had known Padmé was pregnant long before this, and a callous "I'm sorry" was the best I could do?  She'd lost her love and the father of her child, and I bullied her with words to make sure that she went after Anakin herself.

 

Stowing away on her favored Nubian craft was easy.  Remaining hidden was difficult.  I had no idea where we were going, or how long it would take to get there.  At least I felt no hunger, despite not eating for... I couldn't even remember how long.  I dropped into a trance, but kept it light enough to be able to hide from visitors, if need be. 

 

I needn't have worried - Padmé didn't leave the cockpit for the entire flight, and Threepio was too busy fretting to wonder if they had an extra passenger.  In fact, it was thanks to his vocal fretting that I learned where we were going.  Mustafar.  A mining colony on a lava-riddled world.  Nearly inhospitable. 

 

Why can't I ever have a confrontation on some tropical island with balmy breezes?  Why was it always laser walls, lava, creeping insects in damaged temples, or gigantic ravenous beasts? 

 

 

 

I cursed myself as I cleared the fog from my mind.  The ship had landed, and if it hadn't been for Threepio's prattling, I would have slept through the entire disaster.

 

I made my way quietly towards the extended boarding ramp, staying in the shadows as I caught the edge of the conversation going on outside.  I sharpened my hearing and listened.

 

"I won't lose you the way I lost my mother!" Anakin was shouting.  "I've become more powerful than any Jedi has ever dreamed of, and I've done it for you!  To protect you!"

 

"Come away with me!" Padmé replied, her voice quiet in contrast to Anakin's shouting.  "Help me raise our child.  Leave everything else behind while we still can."  I could have applauded the love  she showed in that moment.  Despite everything she knew, she still tried to reach Anakin through whatever madness had possessed him.

 

"Don't you see?  We don't have to run away anymore.  I have brought peace to the Republic.  I am more powerful than the Chancellor!  I can overthrow him, and together you and I can rule the galaxy.  Make things the way we want them to be!"

 

I couldn't believe what I was hearing.  Neither could Padmé.  "I don't believe what I'm hearing," she said, denial coloring her voice.  "Obi-Wan was right.  You've changed!"

 

"I don't want to hear any more about Obi-Wan.  The Jedi turned against me.  Don't you turn against me!"

 

 _What the hell is he talking about?_ I wondered.  Anakin had been frustrated with the Council when we last spoke, but a betrayal?  When?  By whom? 

 

Padmé was crying.  I could hear it in her voice, and my heart went out to her.  "I don't know you anymore.  Anakin, you're breaking my heart.  I'll never stop loving you, but you are going down a path I cannot follow."  _I have always followed where you have led, but I can’t follow you into the Dark.  No matter how much I love you._   It seemed like so long ago that I had spoken those words.  Once upon a time, I had been in Padmé's place.

 

"Because of Obi-Wan?" Anakin sneered, and I decided I had heard enough.  It was time to say hello.

 

"Because of what you've done!" Padmé cried.  "What you plan to do!  Stop, stop now.  Come back to me!  I love you."

 

Anakin saw me before Padmé did.  "Liar!" he screamed.

 

Padmé spun around, and I hated myself when I saw the betrayed look upon her face when she saw me.  "No!"

 

"You're with him!  You've betrayed me!  You brought him here to kill me!" Anakin roared, and I got my first good look at my former Padawan.  I don't know what happened since we last spoke, but Yoda was right.  There was no trace of sanity in those eyes, gone sickly yellow with corruption.

 

"No!" Padmé yelled back.  "Anakin, I swear I—!"  Her words broke off when Anakin, to my shock, he reached out with the Force, wrapping Padmé's neck in an invisible, deadly grip.

 

"Let her go, Anakin!" I ordered, grim.  I had to stop this.  This had to end. Now.

 

"What have you and she been up to!?" he half-growled, half-sneered at me.  I hesitated in surprise.  By the Force, he actually believed I was sleeping with her!

 

"Let her go!" I yelled, and he finally released his grip, and Padmé dropped to the ground without a sound.  She didn't move, though I felt there was still life within her.  Force, let her still be able to breathe!

 

"You turned her against me!" Anakin yelled at me, shedding his cloak.

 

"You did that yourself," I retorted, the anger I'd kept in check since leaving the Temple surfacing at last.

 

"You will not take her from me," Anakin said, palming his lightsaber.

 

"Your anger and your lust for power have already done that," I replied, disgusted.  "You have allowed the Sith to twist your mind until you have become the very thing you swore to destroy!"

 

"Don't lecture me, Obi-Wan!  I see through the lies of the Jedi.  I do not fear the Dark side as you do.  I have brought peace, justice, freedom, and security to my new Empire."

 

" _Your_ new Empire?!" I broke off whatever else I might have said.  I had already seen the recording of the Senate session, to know that Palpatine had declared himself Emperor.  Anakin was delusional if he thought Palpatine was going to share that power with him.

 

"Don't make me kill you," Anakin hissed, igniting his lightsaber and raising it.  "If you're not with me, you're my enemy."

 

I hesitated no longer.  My lightsaber was in my hand and ignited in one movement.  "I guess I am."

 

 

 

Despite the attacks that had threatened Polis Massa during the war, they had always refused a guard.  I'd cursed their stupidity at the time, but now I was grateful.  It meant there was no one there to keep me from delivering Padmé into the medical staff's hands. 

 

Bail had met me there with an exhausted Master Yoda.  I had been too glad to see him alive to care much, at first, that Palpatine still lived as well.  It was my hope that Polis Massa would have had someone with the training to help Padmé - that one of the Jedi Healers might still have been stationed there.

 

Standing in the station's observation lounge, I knew that for my friend, all hope was lost.

 

The chief medical droid spoke to us in tones that were supposed to be soothing.  They did nothing but grate on my frayed nerves.  “Medically, she is completely healthy.  For reasons we can’t explain, we are losing her.”

 

I knew why they were losing her.  Anakin and Padmé had shared a lifebond, one that had been formed by the Force.  Before he tried to take both our lives, Anakin had destroyed it.  I had seen the damage as I tried to stabilize Padmé on our way here, talking to her as she faded in and out of consciousness.  Her strength of will was all that had allowed her to survive this long. 

 

If one in a Lifebond died, the other would grieve, but live.  In this case, their bond had been ripped apart.  The damage that had caused to her body and mind was nothing short of catastrophic.  “She’s dying,” I said, tasting the words.  They sounded as if they came from far away.

 

“We don’t know why.  She has lost the will to live.  We need to operate quickly if we are to save the babies.”

 

That was a surprise.  I exchanged a startled glance with Bail.  “Babies?!” my friend exclaimed.

 

“She is carrying twins,” the droid informed us in the same even, unemotional tones with which it had announced Padmé Naberrie Amidala’s imminent death.

 

I left the others to stand there, walking into Padmé’s room after being given a quick spray of a decontaminant.  I sat down beside her after pulling forth a chair, and she smiled at me.  I touched her hand, and didn’t need the Force to feel life fleeing her.  I swallowed hard.  “Padmé… They will have to perform surgery, to retrieve your children.”

 

Padmé didn’t seem surprised to find that she carried more than one life within her.  “I thought… that maybe it was so,” she whispered.  “Things seemed a bit active in there.”  She smiled again, a touch of joy in her eyes.  “Twins?”

 

I nodded, my vision blurring as tears burned my eyes.  I did not let them fall.  “You must be strong for them, Padmé.  They are going to need their mother.”  Even as I spoke I could almost see the tortured, blackened ends of the bond that had once bound her to my former Padawan.  Survivors of a shattered lifebond either died or went insane without help.

 

She shook her head, once, and gazed up at me.  I understood, then, that she knew she was dying, and the knowledge was enough to break what was left of my heart. “I wish that I could be their mother, Obi-Wan, but I know that’s not possible.  Even if I lived…” she closed her eyes, and tears leaked from beneath closed eyelids.  “You know that they would be in danger with me.  The Emperor has declared that ‘all Force sensitive individuals be identified, so that no Jedi will contaminate them’,” she quoted bitterly. 

 

“I know,” I said, my voice just above a whisper.  “Just as they will be in danger with me.  We will have to separate them.”  The twins would be born without parents, and would grow up not even knowing the company of each other.  Their strength in the Force was their blessing… and their curse.  

 

It wasn’t fair.  Our actions might save their lives, but I would hate myself for the rest of my life for the part I would have in it.

 

There was a tiny smile on her face now.  “One of my children… give one to Bail.  He has talked often… of how much he and Breha want children.  I know… that my baby will be taken care of.”

 

“And the other?” I asked, amazed at how she could be so calm as she made these decisions.  It was as if we were talking political strategy, not deciding the fate of her children.

 

“I wish that they could go to my family.  I wish… that my parents could know their grandchildren.”  She squeezed my hand, her grip strong despite her failing strength.  “Anakin has family on Tatooine.”

 

“His mother?” I shook my head.  “They might search there.”  It was what I would do, were I in the Emperor’s place.

 

Padmé shook her head, looking up at me in confusion.  “No, Obi-Wan.  Anakin’s mother has been dead for years, killed by one of the local tribes.  He swore a long time ago that he would never return to Tatooine.”

 

I stared at her, stunned.  I had known at the start of the war that something was troubling Anakin, but he'd never wished to speak of it.  I never suspected it was that bad, and hadn't pushed him to tell me.  “He mentioned nothing.  How do you know this?”

 

There was a brief sigh, and I was heartened to see Padmé look so annoyed.  “I was there.  Dammit!  He said he would tell you!” she fumed, and then coughed, her breath stalling to a gasp.  I waved away the droid, easing her as best I could with the Force.  When she could breathe easily again, she continued.  “Shmi married a moisture farmer named Cliegg Lars.  Cliegg has a son named Owen.  I kept in touch with them, though Anakin never wanted to speak with them.  Owen married the girl he’d been dating on our visit.  Her name is Beru.  I— Obi-Wan?” she looked up at me, worry filling her eyes, as she noticed my shock.

 

It couldn’t be.  It simply could not be.  Anakin’s mother could not possibly have married my father. 

 

Then again, the Jedi were all but extinct, I was a fugitive from the government I'd worked to protect my entire life, my friends were all dead, my Padawan was a Sith's Apprentice, and the Chancellor was the biggest bastard of them all.  At this point, I just added it to the list of reasons of how I knew I'd somehow awoken in the wrong universe.  I sputtered, a noise between a laugh and a sob emerging from my throat.  “Pale brown hair, gray eyes, sort of thick around the middle?” I asked, trying to sound nonchalant.  “Owen – pale brown hair like his father, bright blue eyes?”  I couldn’t even remember how old he was.  In fact, I couldn’t even remember the last time I had spoken to my family.  It had to have been another lifetime or so ago.

 

Padmé nodded.  “You know them.  That’s good.  It will help… when you ask them for me.”

 

“Yes,” I said faintly.  “I know them.”  It was perfect, the strategist in me thought, even as I made a point of not revealing my true connection to them.  I trusted Bail and Yoda with my life, but droids could be subverted, and there were human medics now close enough to overhear our words.  As it was, I was going to personally make sure that anything with the ability to record Padmé's time here met with an unfortunate end.  “I will do as you ask.”

 

“It’s time,” the lead medical droid announced. 

 

“He stays,” Padmé told the droid, in the commanding tone she used to make sure that her words were obeyed.  The droid jerked a nod in acknowledgment.  “Obi-Wan, you must promise me that you will not hide from your grief,” Padmé whispered then, and I could see now that pain was marking her face.  Her body, already stressed to its limit, had gone into labor.  “I know you.  I know how you withdraw from everything, from everyone, when you have been so hurt that you don’t know where to turn.”  She glared at me.  “You may fool others, but you don’t fool me, General.  Promise me.”

 

This time the tears did fall, and I made no move to wipe them away.  “I promise, Senator.”  I bent down, kissing her forehead.  I loved her as a sister, as I had loved Anakin as my brother.  I didn’t know what else to do now _but_ grieve.

 

The surgery went well, but despite the drugs they gave her to numb the pain, she still felt everything.  Her body couldn't process the narcotics any longer.  It was like throwing sand into the wind.  She gasped, unable to help it, when they brought the first child from her womb.  “Hold on,” I whispered.  She needed to live through the entire process.  It was important that she greet her children, call them by name.  It was the only gift she would ever be able to give them.

 

 

Padmé smiled, breathing out the whisper of a name.  “Luke.”  The ends of her fingers just brushed the infant’s nose.  He wiggled in the swaddling blanket, as if sensing his mother’s presence.  The baby was broadcasting a broad jumble of emotion, and I smiled in spite of it all; he was so strong in the Force, it was a wonder that the entire galaxy didn’t know of his birth.

 

Then Padmé cried out, her pain mounting and ending as they took the second child from her.  She lay back, panting, and I brushed my hand over her forehead and into her hair.  _Just a bit longer,_ I coaxed, even though she could not hear.  I just couldn’t bear to speak the words aloud.

 

“It’s a girl,” I said softly, seeing the gender of the child before the medic bent to clean her.  Then the medic handed the girl to me.  I shook my head; the girl was just as noisy as her brother, and was letting the world know in no uncertain terms how unhappy she was with this birthing business. 

 

Padmé reached up with one shaking hand, touching her daughter on the forehead.  "Leia."  The baby opened her eyes, looking around with eyes just as blue and inquisitive as her brother's.  Then Padmé's arm fell back, and I knew that she was at the end of her strength.  The medic took the children from me, bearing them away for tests and immunizations.  I sat down next to Padmé again, taking one of her icy hands in mine, trying to be comforting and wishing I knew of more to do.  “Obi-Wan… there is good in him still.  I know there… is…” she said, staring up at me, trying in vain to speak. 

 

I clutched Padmé’s hand, and felt it as she breathed her last.  The fiery spirit that I had known for thirteen years fled her body in a single moment.  There was a whisper in the Force as her light faded, and then there was nothing.

 

I sat there, unable to move, whispering my denial over and over.  I had watched or felt almost everyone I loved die.  I had left my Padawan to die.  But this… I did not think I could bear this.

 

The medical droid stepped closer, intruding on my grief.  “Sir, we must prepare her body.”

 

“You stay where the hell you are!” I snapped, rounding on the droid.  I had to resist a near overpowering urge to smash the poor droid into hapless bits.  “You!” I barked, pointing at the other human medic, a man from Bail’s own personal staff.  “Get whatever you need to do this.”  At the man’s confused look, I softened my voice.  “She’s Naboo.  Only living hands are allowed to prepare their dead for burial or pyre.”

 

He nodded his understanding. “I’ll take care of it.  If she has other clothing, it will help.”

 

I stood up, laying Padmé’s hand across her breast.  I reached over and took her other hand, placing it over her heart.  “I will find something,” I said. Knowing Padmé, there was undoubtedly something aboard her ship befitting the funeral of a Senator.  I knew I was focusing on this task as an excuse not to think, but I didn’t care.

 

Bail stopped me as I left her room, one hand on my shoulder.  Tears fell freely from his dark eyes.  “Find what you can.  When you’re done, I will have one of my own trusted agents take her body back to Naboo.  They will grieve for her there.”  He paused at my confounded look.  “Obi-Wan, no one can know how close a relationship we had with her, for Alderaan’s sake, for your sake, and for the sake of her children.  I dare not even send anything but a verbal message for her family.  I don’t even know if it’s safe to tell them of their grandchildren.”

 

“Not to mention the sake of the Alliance,” I muttered, uttering a short laugh at his surprised look.  “I might have acted otherwise, but I knew what you and Padmé have been conferring about for the last few months.  I’m glad you did,” I said, laying a hand on his arm.  I looked at him, letting the honesty of my words bleed through my expression.  “I am glad that not all of us were blind.  Your little covenant might just save us all.”

 

I turned then, and walked steadily for the hangar bay where I had left Padmé’s ship.  Bail let me go, though I sensed him watching me until I was out of sight.

 

It was a good thing I was familiar with her ship, because I could have torn the damned thing apart looking for her wardrobe.  As it was, I still wound up with clothing everywhere – clothing that matched her stature as Senator, rich in texture and design. 

 

None of it would ever be worn again.

 

I screamed, punching the wardrobe cabinet with both hands, and slammed my head against the cold metal locker.  Tears streamed down my face as an ugly wail of denial poured from me. 

 

Strong arms pulled me from my place against the wardrobe, holding me, and I sobbed into the soft velvet of Bail’s jacket.  I didn’t care anymore who saw, for there was no one left who needed the General.  No one left who needed me to be the implacable beacon of strength I had forced myself to become.  Bail let me cry, his hands drifting through my hair, whispering nonsense.  I let myself be soothed, let myself be held, as I had not done since Terza had once helped me to weather my grief for my lost love, years ago.

 

I cried until I felt that I couldn’t breathe, feeling again the loss of every single friend that war had taken from me.  I sobbed for those who had been murdered on one man’s order, the betrayal so horrific that I still couldn’t cope with the scale.  I cried the tears that I had not allowed myself for Anakin, the warm-hearted boy I had lost forever to darkness and lava.

 

I don’t know how it got into my hands, but when I sat up, trying to gain some semblance of control, it was there.  I held up my right hand, staring at the leather thong and the carefully carved desert seed attached to it.  The object was well-worn, but the love that had gone into its making was obvious, as were the Force signatures attached to it.  I touched the snippet with reverent fingers. 

 

I didn’t believe Padmé’s words about good remaining in Anakin, and didn’t have the heart to remind her that he was dead – not when she lay dying herself.  But the boy who had carved this token, presenting it, all unawares to a Queen, had known love. 

 

Perhaps that was all that mattered.

 

I looked at Bail, then, meeting his eyes, and something within me hardened into firm resolve.  I would not let the death of everyone I cared for be in vain.  When I had secured Luke safely on Tatooine, I was going to make sure this fledgling Alliance got off to the best start imaginable.

 

I was General Obi-Wan Kenobi, and I was going to make damned sure that no one ever forgot it.

 

 

 

I watched as Bail's guests, called for after Padmé's death, took places around a conference table on Bail’s ship.  The twins were sleeping together in my room, guarded by the female medic Andrada.  She'd willingly left Polis Massa behind to become temporary nursemaid to Leia and Luke.  Once things had settled, I was going to erase her memory and send her back home.  I should have felt guilty about that, but I didn't.  We couldn't afford for anyone else to know that Padmé's children had lived.

 

Mon Mothma was there, her eyes red-rimmed.  She and Padmé had been close friends.  Fang Zar and Garm bel Iblis I also knew well.  Bail sat, and without preamble invited Senator bel Iblis to speak. 

 

I listened to everything they had put together with their tiny alliance of Senators.  I was impressed; I'd known that they had been trying to form something like this for months, but now that their worst fears had been realized, support had intensified.  Senator bel Iblis was having so much trouble hiding the massive amount of Corellian volunteers for the Alliance to Restore the Republic that he had foisted some of them off on Bail, who was hiding them at scattered Alderaanian-supported posts throughout the Republic.  Many of the non-clone soldiers who had joined the army's ranks over the years had also defected.

 

When they finished, I spoke, telling them of other things that needed to be prepared.  Mon Mothma, more zealous than Padmé had ever been about maintaining peace, only nodded at the weapons I suggested they acquire, at the ship types that would be the most useful to them - and the most discredited in battle.  Yoda and I helped to devise a system of splinter cells, all unknown to the other, so that agents who were captured would never be able to reveal anything about the rest of the Alliance.

 

I knew that all too soon the movement would be too big for such tactics, but for now it would keep people safe.  Bail was planning a massive public disarmament of Alderaan, to waylay Palpatine’s suspicions about his intentions.  “I’m afraid I was a bit too vocal sometimes,” Bail said, snorting wryly.  “Anyone who signed the Delegation of Two Thousand is going to have to watch their backs.”

 

The other Senators then departed, heading back to their respective planets before the new Imperial Senate noticed a prolonged absence.  Only Bail, Yoda, and I remained, and it was at last time to discuss the children.  “My wife and I will take the girl.  We’ve always talked of adopting a daughter.  She will be loved by us.”  Bail tried to smile, but the expression was pained.  I understood all too well how he felt.  Bail had never wanted his fortune to hinge on another’s death.

 

I nodded.  “And what of the boy?” I asked.  I remembered Padmé’s wishes, but my faith in myself had been so badly shaken that I wanted someone else to speak the words.

 

“To Tatooine, to his family he should go,” Yoda said.  I breathed a quiet sigh of relief; Padmé’s last requests would be honored.

 

Bail stood, giving me a quick nod as he left to attend to Padmé’s droids.  They needed to be hidden as well, and See-Threepio’s memory banks would have to be erased. Artoo Detoo, on the other hand, had proven long ago that he could take care of himself.  Both would serve aboard Bail’s ship, the _Tantive IV_ , under Captain Antilles.  Hopefully they would manage to stay out of trouble.

 

“A moment, Master Obi-Wan,” Yoda said, catching my attention.

 

I listened to him speak, and once again my world was turned upside down.

 

 

 

Talk to Qui-Gon again.  Be able to see him, be able to interact with him.

 

I wasn’t sure if I loved the idea, or if I hated it.  There were so many conflicting emotions in regards to the man who had once been my Master, though I loved him as much now as I had when he still lived.

 

I tapped my fingers on the communications panel.  In my left hand was the comm code to my family’s home on Tatooine.  Artoo had found it for me, for Padmé had contacted them often with his help.  When I'd asked if Anakin knew the code, the droid had blatted at me in disgust.  That was a definite no.

 

I wondered what I was going to say to my father, especially when the man hadn’t felt the need to tell me he was moving from Ator to Tatooine in the first place.  Honestly, I wasn’t sure if his reticence in contacting me was his fault or mine.  Too many years lay between us, and far too much distance.  And Owen… I tried to figure out what my little brother would look like now, but could only picture him as he had been at our mother's funeral.  He was only a year younger than Anakin, and I hadn’t seen him since he was small child.  I found it hard to believe that so much time had passed.

 

I tapped in the code before I could lose my nerve, and waited for someone to answer.  There would be no video feed – Artoo had said that they couldn’t afford it.  Voice only.  I couldn’t decide if that would make this easier or harder to deal with.

 

“Lars residence.”

 

I closed my eyes, hearing a voice that was much more gravelly than I remembered.  Time had been harsh for my father, I thought.  Time, and desert winds.  “Hello, Father.”

 

The comm was silent for so long, I was afraid he had disconnected the device.  “Obi-Wan,” he said, my name laced with stunned surprise.  “I never expected to hear from you again.”

 

“I… suppose it’s been a long time since we’ve spoken,” I said, forcing the words through numb lips.

 

He barked out a short laugh.  “Not that I made it easy for you to get in touch with me.  Still, you’re a Jedi, and I figured if you needed to find us, you would.  Guess I was right.”

 

“If it had not been for a mutual friend of ours, I don’t think I would have ever found you,” I said, smiling a little.  My father was nothing if not honest.

 

“Mutual friend, huh?  If it’s someone with a deck of Sabaac cards, I don’t know ‘em,” Cliegg Lars said, a smile in his voice.  “Who’s the friend, son?”

 

I swallowed dryly.  “Padmé Amidala Skywalker, spouse of Anakin Skywalker...” My brother, I thought, grief a bitter well in my throat.  I had screamed the title at Anakin without knowing how true it was.

 

Even through the comm, I sensed that my father had sat up, alert.  “Something’s happened, then, worse than what we’re hearing.  Damned news feeds aren’t worth anything out here.”

 

“Yes, something’s happened,” I whispered, my voice faint.  I didn’t want to discuss it over a comm.  I wasn’t even sure if I could.  “I… I have a favor to ask of you, on behalf of a mutual friend."

 

“I’m listening.”

 

 

                                    ****    ****    ****    ****

 

 

The eopie didn’t stink, and I was grateful.  It had a swinging gait that was distracting for me, but soothing for the infant in my arms.  Luke Skywalker slept the entire trip from Mos Eisley to the Lars homestead, contented by the rocking motion and by his full belly.

 

In the distance I could see two figures waiting for me, silhouetted by the setting suns.  Neither was my father, who had told me of his amputated leg.  I sighed, hoping I would have been able to speak with him. 

 

When I pulled the eopie to a stop next to the homestead, the silhouette of the girl turned and came towards me, walking quickly.  I dropped down off of my mount, careful not to disturb the baby.  I had been content to listen to him prattle in the Force, cooing his happiness in my ear and in my mind.  Force help me, I was going to miss him so much!

 

“Beru,” I whispered, when I could see her face clearly.  She was as beautiful in her way as Padmé had been in hers.  She smiled at me, and I handed Luke over to her. 

 

“Obi-Wan,” she replied, giving me a nod to let me know that I was welcome, though I could not stay.  “I know you must leave quickly, but I hope to see you again.  Owen…” she hesitated.  “He says hello, and that he loves you.  He doesn’t speak to you himself, because he’s afraid he’ll either hit you or cry.”  She smiled.  “Maybe a bit of both.”

 

I looked at the silhouette of my brother, his hair stirred faintly by the wind, and nodded.  “Where’s—”

 

“Your father is in Mos Eisley, waiting to speak with you before you go.  Don’t leave without seeing him, Obi-Wan,” she said, her tone firm.  She brought the baby up to rest against her shoulder, and Luke woke up and looked around with inquisitive blue eyes.  Satisfied by what he saw, he snuggled into Beru’s shoulder and went back to sleep.  Beru’s smile widened at the easy trust the baby gave her.

  
            I knew then, that she would love Luke as her own, and it eased my heart.  He would be protected here, as Leia would be loved and protected by Bail and Breha.

 

“Thank you,” I said, and turned away.  If I stayed to say goodbye, I would stay longer, and it was too dangerous.  I knew that something was hunting for me, and had been since I had left Bail's company.  If it found me here, then I damned us all.

 

I leapt back up onto the eopie, tugging the creature’s head around, and headed back to Mos Eisley as fast as it could carry me. 

 

 

I found my father in a cantina.  He was leaning against the back of a booth in a dark corner, and I stared at him for a long moment as the bar’s patrons jostled around me.  He was so much older than I remembered, his face worn by grief.

 

I made sure my hood stayed up, blending in easily with the brown sea of hoods and burnooses prevalent in the area.  Even my tunics, marking me as a Jedi anywhere in else in the galaxy, weren’t out of place here.  I slid into the booth opposite my father, and met his eyes for the first time in fifteen years.

 

Cliegg’s eyes widened a bit, and he smiled.  “You look like I feel.”

 

I snorted.  I was well aware of the fact that I wasn’t nearly as pretty as a blonde-haired Jedi woman had liked to complain about, once upon a time.  “It’s good to see you, too.”  I dropped back my hood.  As obscured as we were by darkness, my identity was secure for now. 

 

“My son.”  Cliegg shook his head, gazing at me sadly.  “How time has marked you – marked us both.  I heard about your exploits, by the way,” he said, taking a sip of amber liquid from the glass he held.  “General Kenobi is quite famous, even out here.”

 

I sighed.  That would definitely make settling here difficult.  I thought that my idea to stay away from Tatooine for a few years an even better one than before.  Training and solitude was going to have to wait.  “General Kenobi tried very hard to avoid the damned cameras, Father.”

 

He laughed, downing the rest of his drink and motioning at the barkeep for two more.  A Barabel with a bad disposition dropped off the liquor, and Cliegg nodded at him in thanks.  “I figured that, but saviors of the Republic should get used to the limelight.”

 

“Saviors of the Republic?” I stared at him in disbelief.  I hadn’t mentioned much on the comm, but I’d thought… “You really don’t know what’s happened, do you?”

 

Cliegg’s eyes narrowed.  “I agreed to the terms of your bringing Luke here, even though I thought a quick drop-off of an infant damned odd.  You were very insistent.  Talk to me, boy.”

 

“The Jedi are no more,” I said, and gave him what few in the galaxy knew – the truth of our betrayal, and the real identity of the man who had ordered it.  My father stared at me in shock as I told him of Anakin’s death, and of Padmé’s, and the birth of the Rebellion.  I hadn’t meant to mention the Alliance, but when I started talking I found that I could not stop until I had told him everything.  I knew that I could trust him with all of it.

 

“I’m sorry, Ben,” Cliegg whispered, and I jumped, startled.  No one had called me Ben since I had traveled to Ator for my mother’s funeral.  It had been Owen’s name for me, when my little brother hadn’t been able to say my real name.  “I understand your caution now.  I assure you, we will make sure the Emperor never finds my grandson.”  He smiled.  “Didn’t think I would ever get one, when both you and Owen were tested and found sterile at birth.  I’d hoped maybe Shmi and I…” he paused, sorrow filing his eyes.  I was surprised to realize that my father had genuinely loved Anakin’s mother.  “We had hoped to have a child or two of our own, since she could still bear children.  But that was not to be.”

 

I stared at him, and then picked up my drink and downed it in one go, relishing the burn as it coursed down my throat.  I was seized by a terrible certainty.  “You’re dying,” I breathed.

 

Cliegg must have known, for he nodded.  “Heart took too much strain when I lost my leg.  It’s weak, and bothers me more and more every day.  I imagine that one morning I’m just not going to wake up.”

 

I was stricken.  I had just found my father again, and I knew that by the time I returned to Tatooine, he would be dead.  It must have shown in my face, for he gave me a sad smile.  “Now, don’t you worry about it, Ben.  I’ve lived a good life, and I have two children I can be proud of.  There are many out there who can’t say the same.  I have had the joy of loving my Aika, and was blessed again when I found Shmi.  It will be good to join them.”

 

Knowing he was at peace with his own death didn't make my heart hurt any less.  I couldn’t even lay claim to the same, for I had never been granted the chance to know my love in the way that I wished.  I would never have children, and I doubted I would ever have another Padawan.  “You have been blessed by the Force, Father,” I whispered, tears gathering in my eyes.  I wiped them away with my fingers, smiling tremulously at him.

 

“I guess I have,” he said.  His voice low, he said, “I will tell Owen and Beru everything you have told me, so they will know to guard Luke when I am gone.  And now, you’d better go.”  He tilted his head in one direction, and I pulled up my hood without thought.  “Stormtroopers,” he mouthed the word, and I turned in surprise. 

 

Sure enough, two of the troopers in white armor had entered the cantina, and were talking brusquely with the nearest patrons.  What the hell were they doing here on Tatooine?  I stood, glancing down at my father, and my mouth was finally full of all the things I wanted to say to him.

 

He grinned at me.  “There’s an exit out back,” he said, jerking his thumb in the opposite direction of the stormtroopers.  “I love you, Obi-Wan.  Now get the hell out of here.”

 

I gripped his hand tightly, wishing once more for time that I did not have.  “I love you, Father,” I whispered, and fled into the darkness.


End file.
